THE  PATHETIC  FALLACY  IN  EARLY  LATIN  POETRY 


BY 

GREGORY  MARCOSSON  MAZER 

A.  B.  Harvard  University,  1917 


THESIS 

SUBMITTED  IN  PARTIAL  FULFILLMENT  OF  THE  REQUIREMENTS 
FOR  THE  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS  IN  CLASSICS 
IN  THE  GRADUATE  SCHOOL  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS, 

1922 


URBANA,  ILLINOIS 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 


THE  GRADUATE  SCHOOL 


Q.  J ux. 


19*2, 


I HEREBY  RECOMMEND  THAT  THE  THESIS  PREPARED  UNDER  MY 
SUPERVISION  BY JtU y^r 


ENTITLED 


Ju  ttc  JaJCecCtj  ty.  f&e  Ia^j 


BE  ACCEPTED  AS  FULFILLING  THIS  PART  OF  THE  REQUIREMENTS  FOR 

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l/Q  F^/Ly  f^£o^f  t 

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Recommendation  concurred  in* 


Committee 

on 

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' 


. 


Contents 


page  s 

I.  Introduction 

Chap.  l.(a)  Ruskin's  view  of  the  pathetic  fal- 
lacy   1 

( b } Ky  vieW  of  the  pathetic  fallacy....  5 

(c)  The  'apathetic  reality' 9 

Chap.  2.  (a)  Animism 11a 

(h)  'Animization'  16 

(c)  My  definition  of  the  pathetic  fal- 
lacy  19 

Chap.  3.  Personification 20a 

Chap.  4.  The  idea  of  metamorphosis 25 

Chap.  5.  The  doctrine  o n 

Chap.  6.  (a)  'faded'  epithets 37 

( h ) Transferred  epithets 39 

(c)  Other  figures  excluded 41 

(d)  Personifying  epithets 45 

(e)  Summary  of  introduction 44 

II.  Evidence 

1.  The  Pre-Ciceronian  Period 46 

a.  Plautus  and  Terence 46 

b.  The  fragments  of  early  poetry.........  47 

2.  The  Ciceronian  Period 48 

a.  Lucretius 48 

b . Catullus 51 

3.  The  Augustan  Age 55 

a.  Vergil 55 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


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pa^es 

Id.  Horace  and  Tibullus 66 

c.  Propertius 68 

d.  Ovid 75 

III.  Conclusion 85 


t 


Bibliography . 


1.  Allen;  The 'treatment  of  nature  in  the  Poetry  of  the  Republic, 

Uadi son  Wisconsin,  1898. 

2.  Arnold:  On  the  Study  of  Celtic  Literature,  1903. 

3.  Arnold : Roman  Stoicism,  1911. 

4.  Canter:  The  Paraclausi thyron  as  a Literary  Theme,  in  American 

Journal  of  Philology,  Volume  41,  part  4,  1920. 

5.  Caesaresco;  Outdoor  Life  in  Creek  and  Roman  Poets,  London  1911 

6.  Frank:  Fortunatus  et  Ille,  in  Classical  Journal,  Volume  XI., 

May  1916. 

7.  Clover:  The  Conflict  of  Religion  in  the  Early  Roman  Empire, 

1909 . 

8.  Harrington:  Horace  as  a nature  Poet,  PAPA,  Volume  35,  1904. 

9.  Harrington:  Tibullus  as  a Poet  of  nature,  PAPA  Volume  31, 

1900. 

10.IIill6r:  Some  Features  of  Ovid's  Style,  in  Classical  Journal, 
Volume  XI.,  June,  1916. 

11.  Murray:  The  Stoic  Philosophy,  1915. 

12.  Postgate:  Introduction  to  Select  El£ gies  of  Propertius,  1885. 

13.  Rand:  notes  on  Ovid,  in  TAPA,  Volume  35,  1904. 

14. Ruskin:  Modern  Painters,  1904 

15. Sellar:  Horace  and  the  Elegiac  Poets,  1899. 

16.Shairp:  On  Poetic  Interpretation  of  nature,  1884. 

17.  Thomson:  Creeks  and  Barbarians,  1921. 

18 . 'falters : Classical  Dictionary,  1916. 

19 . Wordsworth:  Complete  Poetical  Works,  1904. 

20.  Zielinskuilarginalien, in  Philologus,  Volume  64,  1905. 


a . . 


Texts. 


1.  Accius:  Ribbeck,  1897 

2.  Andronicus:  Baehrens,  F.P.R.,  p.  37 

5.  Cato  (Valerius):  IJaekius,  Bonn,  1847 

4.  Catullus,  tr.  by  F.W.Cormick:  Loeb  Classical  Library,  1912. 

» 

5.  Cicero:  Mueller,  C.F.V.,  Vol.  4,  3,  leipsig,  1879. 


6.  Fnnius : Vahlen , Leipsig,  1903. 


7.  Horace,  Lo6b  Classical  Library,  1918. 

8.  Lucilius:  Llarx,  Leipsig,  1904. 

9.  Lucretius:  Munro,  H.A.J.,  Cambridge,  1895. 

10. Manilius:  Brel  ter,  Leipsig,  1907. 
ll.ilaevius:  Ribbeck,  Vol.  1 a d 2. 

12. Ovid:  Heroidesand  Amores,  tr.  by  Grant  Showerr  an, loeb. Class  . Lib, 

1914. 

13. Ovid:  Metamorphoses , tr.  by  Frank  J.  Hiller,  Loeb  Classical 
Library,  1916 . 

14. ?acuvius:  Ribbeck,  Vol.  I Pervigilium  Veneris,  tr.  by  J.7. . 

Hackail,  Leeb  Classical  Library,  1912. 

15. Phaedrus:  HaveiT,  Paris. 

16.  Plautus:  Oxford,  1903. 

17.  Propertius,  tr.  by  K.B. Butler,  Loeb  Classical  Library,  1912. 

18.  Ribbeck:  B^aenicae  Roman.  Poes.  Frag.  Volume  I,  189  7 , Vol.  11.1898 

Leipzig. 

19.  Terence:  Oxford,  1912. 

20.  Tibullus,  tr.  by  J. P. Postgate , Loeb  Classical  Library,  1912. 

21.  Valerius:  Kramer,  Leipzig,  1913. 

22. Varro:  Riese,  Leipzig,  1865 

23.  Vergil,  H'.R.  Fair  dough,  Loeb  Classical  Library,  1918. 

The  material  for  the  following  discussion  has  been  collected 
by  the  reading  of  all  Roman  poets--whether  important  or  of  minor 
rank- -from  Bnnius  through  the  Augustan  Age. 


i 


. 


. 


. 


. 


f 


The  Pathetic  Fallacy  in  Early  Latin  Poetry 
from  Ennius  to  the  End  of  the  Augustan  Age. 

I. 

Introduction . 

John  Ruskin  is  probably  the  first  writer  of  literary  import- 
ance who  undertook  to  discuss  at  length  that  literary  form  of  poet- 
ic expression  which  he  termed  the  Pathetic  Fallacy.  In  his  "Modern 
Painters"  he  devotes  considerably  more  than  a chapter  to  de- 

scribing the  pathetic  fallacy,  but  without  precisely  defining  it. 

Fallacy  is  of  two  principal  kinds,  he  points  out.  "Either  it 
is  the  fallacy  of  wilful  fancy,  which  involves  no  real  expectation 
that  it  will  be  believed;  or  else  it  is  a fallacy  caused  by  an  ex- 
cited state  of  the  feelings,  making  us,  for  the  time  more  or  less 
irrational."  ^ It  is  with  the  latter  that  we  are  here  chiefly  con- 
cerned, and  one  example  of  each  type,  taken  from  English  literature, 
will  suffice  as  illustration. 

"The  spendthrift  crocus,  bursting  through  the  mold 
Naked  and  shivering,  with  his  cur)  of  gold." 

"Here  is  something  pleasurable,”  believes  Ruskin,  in  written 
poetry  which  is  nevertheless  untrue,"  and  this  elaborate  in- 
stance of  personification  he  calls  a "cheating  of  the  fancy." 

1.  Ruskin,  Modern  Painters  1904, Yol. 3 pp. 161-177 

2.  op.citr-pl5a 

3.  ibid. 


2 


But,  in  Alton  Locke,-- 

"They  rowed  her  in  across  the  rolling  foarn-- 
The  cruel,  crawling  foam." 

Thus  he  explains:  MThe  foam  is  not  cruel,  neither  does  it  crawl. 
The  state  of  mind  which  attributes  to  it  these  characters  of  a liv- 
ing creature  is  one  in  which  the  reason  is  unhinged  by  grief.  All 
violent  feelings  have  the  same  effect.  They  produce  in  us  a false- 
ness in  our  impressions  of  external  things,  which  I would  generally 
characterize  as  the  Pathetic  Fallacy."  ^ 

His  general  view  of  the  matter  is  this:  "that  the  temperament 
which  is  subject  to  the  pathetic  fallacy  is  that  of  a mind  or  body 
overborne  by  feeling,  and  too  weak  (for  the  time)  to  deal  fully  and 
truthfully  with  what  is  before  them  or  upon  them."  He  points  out 
that  "this  state  is  more  or  less  noble  according  to  the  force  and 
elevation  of  the  emotion  which  has  caused  it;  but  at  its  best,  if 
the  poet  is  so  overpowered  as  to  color  his  descriptions  by  it,  then 
it  is  morbid  and  a sign  of  weakness.  For  the  emotions  have  van- 
quished the  intellect."  "It  isT,T  he  says , "a  higher  order  of  mind,  in 
which  the  intellect  rises  and  asserts  itself  along  with  the  utmost 
tension  of  passion  and  when  the  whole  man  can  stand  in  an  iron  glow, 
white  hot  perhaps,  but  still  strong,  and  in  no  wise  evaporating; 
even  if  he  melts,  losing  none  of  his  weight."  (2)  Mr.  Ruskin  further 
states:  "There  are  four  classes  of  men  -the  men  who  feel  nothing, 
and  therefore  see  truly.  The  ,men  who  feel  strongly,  think  weakly 
and  see  untruly  (the  second  order  of  poets). 

1.  op.  cit-  p. 165 

2.  op.  citip  p 167-168 


' 


3 


The  men  who  feel  strongly,  think  strongly, and  see  truly  (first  order 
of  poets).  And  the  men  who,  strong  as  human  creatures  can  be  are 
yet  submitted  to  influences  stronger  than  they,  and  see  in  a sort 
untruly,  because  what  they  see  is  inconceivably  above  them.”  This 
last  he  calls  "the  usual  condition  of  prophetic  inspiration.”  ^ 
These  classes  "of  course  are  united  each  to  the  other  by  imper- 
ceptible transitions,  and  the  same  mind,  according  to  the  influence 
to  which  it  is  subjected,  passes  at  different  times  into  the  various 
states.  Still,  the  difference  between  the  great  and  lesser  man  is, 
on  the  whole,  chiefly  in  this  point  of  alterability.  Further- 

more, ”so  long  as  we  see  that  the  feeling  (which  induces  the  Pathetic 
Fallacy)  is  true,  we  pardon,  or  are  even  pleased  by,  the  confessed 

fallacy  of  sight  which  it  induces...  But  the  moment  the  mind  of  the 

cold,  that  moment  every  such  expression  becomes 

speaker  becomes^untrue , as  being  forever  untrue  in  the  external 

facts. ” ^ 

But  how,  may  one  ask,  is  the  reader  to  know  with  any  degree  of 

definiteness  when  the  mind  of  the  poet,  or  character  represented  by 

him,  is  or  has  become  cold?  And  how  is  one  to  determine  with  an 

appreciable  degree  of  certainty  whether  or  not  a pathetic  fallacy 

is  clearly  induced  by  some  powerful  mood  or  emotion?  An  attempt 

to  answer  these  questions,  the  indirect  purpose  of  this  thesis,  I 

shall  further  embody  in  my  definition  of  the  pathetic  fallacy. 

1.  op.  cit.p. 167-168 
&.  op.cit.  p. 168-169 
3.  ibid. 


4 


In  conclusion,Mr . Ruskin  states  that  the  pathetic  fallacy  TTis 
powerful  only  so  far  as  it  is  pathetic,  feeble  so  far  as  it  is  fal- 
lacious, and,  therefore,  that  the  dominion  of  truth  is  entire,  over 
this,  as  over  every  other  natural  and  just  state  of  the  mind.”  ^ 

Commenting  on  Mr.  Huskin' s view  of  the  matter,  Dr.  J.  C.  Shairp, 
in  his  "Poetic  Interpretation  of  Mature,”  says.:  "It  will  be  con- 
ceded to  Mr.  Ruskin  that  it  is  not  the  highest  order  of  poet  who,  as 
he  looks  out  on  Nature,  is  bo  overmastered  by  his  emotions  as  to  be 
continually  coloring  it  with  his  own  mental  hues.  It  is  higher  to 
feel  intensely  and  still  think  truly,  than  merely  to  feel  intensely 
without  true  thought.  But  Mr.  Ruskin  would  allow  that  for  the  poet, 
whether  dramatic , epic , or  other  to  represent  his  characters  as  color- 
ing the  world  with  their  own  excited  feelings,  is  neither  falsity  nor 
weakness,  but  is  merely  keeping  true  to  a fact  of  human  nature,”  ^ 
The  aesthetic  side  of  the  pathetic  fallacy  need  not  deeply  con- 
cern us  here.  I believe  we  may  no  more  hope  to  realize  an  absolute 

definition  offthe  pathetic  fallacy,  embodying  its  true  aesthetic 
significance, 'than  of  the  literary  genus  Poetry.  Whether  the  pathetic 

fallacy  is  beautiful  or  true,  whether  it  is  a sign  of  strength  or 
weakness  on  the  part  of  the  poet,  thus  denoting  the  superior  or  in- 
ferior poet,  or  whether  it  is  merely  "keeping  true  to  a fact  of  hu- 
man nature”  is,  for  the  purpose  of  this  thesis,  a matter  of  secondary 
importance.  I shall  attempt  to  show,  however,  in  a folio?/ ing  chapter 
that  Dr.  Shairp1 2  s vie?/  has  strong  foundation. 

1.  op.cit»p,177 

2.  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature , 1884 .p. 117 


5 

At  this  point  let  us  consider  more  precisely  what  the  pathetic 
fallacy  is,  and  how  we  are  to  recognize  it.  Although  it  would  be 
practically  impossible  to  furnish  a clue--  a key  that  would  open  all 
doors,  as  it  were — because  of  the  rather  complex  nature  and  tran- 
sitional character  of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  there  is  a definite  meth- 
od of  observation  whereby  we  may  recognize  it  to  an  appreciable  ex- 
tent as  well  as  its  various  stages  of  transition. 

For,  after  all,  Mr.  Ruskin  has  merely  ventured  to  explain  the 
reason  for  the  pathetic  fallacy,  but,  leaving  a general  view  of  the 
problem, has  by  no  means  shown  us,  despite  his  quoting  of  various  in- 
stances, exactly  what  it  is. 

I propose,  therefore,  at  first  roughly  to  divide  the  field  of 
bhe  pathetic  fallacy  into  two  groups : 

1.  The  sympathetic  fallacy 

2.  The  fallacy 

These  two  kinds  of  fallacy,  although  they  may  be  induced  by  the  same 
3ause,  are  really  opposite  in  effect.  By  a mere  change  of  view  point, 
however,  they  may  in  some  cases  become  identical, as  I shall  show  in 
this  chapter,  let  us  again  consider  the  quotation  from  Alton  Locke 
which  Ruskin  quoted : 

’’They  rowed  her  in  across  the  rolling  foam- 
The  cruel,  crawling  foam.” 

He  tells  that  it  is  an  expression  of  grief--  "of  a state  of  mind  in 
which  the  reason  is  unhinged”.  Perhaps  it  is.  But  is  there  a clear 
indication  within  the  fallacy  itself  that  the  underlying  emotion  is 
not  fear  or  cruelty,  or  even  avarice?  I mean,  does  the  personality 
with  which  the  poet  endows  the  foam  reflect  the  mood  or  emotion  of 
the  speaker?  On  the  contrary,  the  feelings  and  emotions  of  the  sea 
are  "cruel” , "crawling” , admitting  that  the  speaker  may  be  filled  with 


. 


, 


* 


. 


6 


grief, no  doubt  stricken  with  a sort  of  bitterness  that  causes  him  to 
imagine  that  the  sea--perhaps  even  the  whole  earth--  is  cruel,  un- 
feeling. Ah,  noI--the  sea  does  not  share  his  emotions.  In  fact,  his 
emotion,,  granting  that  it  is  mainly  grief,  has  caused  him.  to  con- 
sider the  sea  hostile,  heartless,  revealing  to  him  emotions  sharply 
opposite  to  his  own.  This  fallacy,  for  indeed  it  is  a fallacy,  we 
may  designate  by  the  term  ’’antipathetic.  ” 

There  is  a similar,  and  perhaps  even  more  interesting,  instance 
of  such  a fallacy  in  third  book  of  the  Aeneid . 

Aeneas,  when  he  had  come  to  Thrace  after  the  destruction  of  Troy 
first  wishes  to  celebrate  the  inception  of  his  labor  by  decking  the 
altar  with  leafy  boughs  before  offering  sacrifice.  As  he  tears  up 
the  green  growth  of  the  soil  he  beholds  a portent,  and,  upon  further 
investigation,  the  shade  of  Polydorusj Pr iam1 s son  who  had  been  mur- 
dered here  by  Polymxnestor , king  of  Thrace,  laments  and  bids  him  flee. 

tertia  sea  postquam  maiore  hostilia  nisu 
adgredior  genibusque  adver sae  obluctor  harenae 
(eloquor|an  sileam? ) , gemitus  lacrimabilis  irno 
aud itur  turnulo , et  vox  reddita  fertur  ad  auris: 

’’quid  miserurn,  Aenea,  laceras?  iam  parce  sepulto , 
parce  pias  scelerare  rnanus.non  me  tibi  Troia 
externum  tulit,  aut  cruor  hie  de  stipite  manat 
henl  fuge  crude 1 is  terras,  fuge  litus  avarum 
ham  Polydorus  ego  hie  confixum  ferrea  texit  •> 
telorum  seges  et  iaculis  increvit  acutis."  ' 

Here  a shade,  overcome  by  grief  and  pain,  mental  as  well  as 
physic ial,  bids  Aeneas  flee  from  a place  that  had  been  the  scene  of 
treachery,  greed  and  cruelty,  as  Aeneas  explains : 

1.  Vergil,  Aene id ,5, 27-48 


7 


Hunc  Polydorum  auri  quondam  cum  pondere  raagno 
infelix  Priarnusfurtim  mandaret  alendum 
fhres_j.cio  regi,cum  iam  diffideret  arrnis 
Dardaniae  cingique  urbem  obsidione  videret. 
ille,ut  opes  fractae  Teucrum  et  For tuna  recess  it, 
res  Agamemnon ias  victriciaque  arma  secutus 
fas  omne  abrurnpit;  Polydorum  obtruncat  et  auro 
vi  potitur,  Quid  non  mortal ia  cogis, 
auri  sacra  fames! 


In  the  line;  'heul  fuge  crudelis  terras,  fuge  litus 
avarum’  we  see  an  instance  of  the  antipathetic  fallacy. 


The  land  is  "cruel'’,  the  shore  is  "greedy" — opposite  emotions 
caused  by  a mind  and  body  overpowered  with  grief  and  pain.  Without 
attempting  to  avoid  a paradox,  moreover,  we  may  note  that  if  we  view 
this  fallacy  in  the  light  of  the  second  passage,  which  serves  as 


an  explanation  of  the  preceding  one,  we  would  find  that  here  we  have. 


but  perhaps  in  a minor  sense,  also  a sympathetic  fallacy;  the  land 
and  shore  are  made  to  reflect,  and  perhaps  sympathize  with,  the 
cruelty  and  greed  of  Polymnestor 

But  in  his  tenth  Eclogue  Vergil,  singing  the  love  of  his  friend 
Gallus  for  a mistress  who  had  deserted  him,  shows  such  deep  sympathy 
for  him  in  his  (the  latter’s)  grief  that  he  causes  Nature  to  suffer 
sorrow  as  if  humanized. 

Quae  nemora  aut  qui  vos  saltus  habuere , puellae 
Naides , indigfco  cum  Gallus  amore  peribat? 

Nam  neque  Parnasi  vobis  iwga,  nam  neque  Pindi 
ulla  moram  fecere,  neque  Aouie  Aganippe 
ilium  etiam  lauri,  etiarn  flevere  myricae, 
pinifer  ilium  etiam  sola  sub  rupe  iacentem 
Maenalus,  et  gelid i fleverunt  saxa  Lycaei 
slant  et  oves  cireum  (nostri  nec  paenitet  illas, 
nec  te  paeniteat  pecoris,  divina  poeta  : . . 

et  formosus  ovis  ad  fluinina  pavit  Adonis) 


1.  op. c it . -49-57 

2.  Vergil,  Eclogue  10,  9-18 


, 

t 


8 


"For  him  even  the  laurels,  even  the  tamarisks  wept  (1.13) 

For  him,  as  he  lay  beneath  a lonely  rock,  even  pine- 
orowned  Ivlaenalus  wept,  and  the  crags  of  cold  Lycaeus. 

The  sheep,  too think  no  shame  of  us, " 

Here  we  see  reflected  in  nature  the  loneliness  (sola--rupe , 1. 14 ) 
and  grief  (fleverunt,  1.  15)  of  Gallus  as  viewed  through  the  syrnpa- 

if 

thetic  eyes  of  his  friend  Vergil.  This  is  therefore  a "sympathetic 
fallacy,  in  effect  the  direct  opposite  of  what  we  termed  "anti- 
pathetic", although  both  of  these  are  induced  by  a violent,  and  per- 
haps even  the  same,  emotion  or  poignant  mood. 

And  so,  conceding  to  Mr.  Huskin  that  such  fallacies  are  induced 
by  a violent  emotion  or  deep  mood,  either  that  of  the  poet  himself 
or  that  which,  for  artistic  reasons,  he  ascribes  to  one  of  his 
characters,  we  ask:  what  is  the  relation  between  the  emotion  or  mood 
and  the  resulting  pathetic  fallacy?  And,  how  are  we  to  discern  an 
instance  of  this  fallacy?  In  the  first  place,  we  must  be  perfectly 
aware  when  the  poet,  or  any  of  his  characters,  is  under  the  influence 
of  a definite  mood  or  emotion.  Then,  the  pathetic  fallacy,  if  it  is 
to  be  considered  such  , must  reveal  a reflection  in  some  inanimate 
or  brute  object  of  that  same,  or  an  opposite  mood,  or  emotion. 

Thus  the  emotion  revealed  within  the  pathetic  fallacy  w ill  be  easily 
identified,  or  contrasted  with  the  emotion  or  mood  of  the  poet,  or  of 
his  characters. 

That  the  pathetic  fallacy  is  induced  not  by  emotion  alone,  but 
is  also  a result  of  a latent  sense  of  sympathy  between  man,  the  poet 
being  the  voice  or  instrument,  as  it  were,  of  mankind — and  Nature, 
or  the  outer  world  in  general;  and  that  its  expression,  spontaneous 
or  premeditated,  is  (as  a poetic  endowing  of  Nature  in  which  the 
human  soul,  in  some  aspect,  sees  itself  reflected)  not  unjustifiable 
I shall  try  to  show  in  a later  chapter.  For  the  present,  at  least. 


9 


I should  define  the  pathetic  fallacy  as  a poetic  form  of  expression, 
spontaneous  or  premeditated,  revealing  a sympathetic,  or  perhaps  an 
antipathetic,  reflection  of  a mood  or  emotion  of  the  poet  or  of  any 
of  his  characters  in  some  external,  non-human  field. 

Connected  with  the  pathetic  fallacy,  but  as  its  antithesis  and 
particularly  in  the  way  of  contrast,  is  what  I may  call  the  Apa- 
thetic Reality.  This  is  undoubtedly  a premeditated  form-  a real- 
istic yet  poetic  method  of  accentuating,  for  artistic  purposes,  the 
infiniteness  and  inhumaneness  of  Nature;  that  side  of  Nature  which 
yields  no  response  to  man's  yearnings  and  refuses  to  make  itself 
plastic  under  even  the  strongest  power  of  emotion.  For^outsiae  of 
and  beyond  man, aloof  from  his  warm  hopes  and  fears,  his  joy  and 
sorrow,  his  strivings  and  aspirations,  there  lies  the  vast  im- 
mensity of  Nature's  forces,  which  pays  him  no  homage  and  yields 
him  no  sympathy.  This  aspect  of  Nature  may  be  seen  even  in  the 
tamest  landscape,  if  we  look  to  the  clouds  or  the  stars  above  us,  or 
to  the  ocean  waves  that  roar  around  our  shores.  Man's  heart  may  be 
full  of  gladness,  yet  Nature  frowns:  he  goes  forth  to  the  death 
chamber  and  Nature  affronts  him  with  sunshine  and  the  song  of 
birds. 

This  inhuman  and  perhaps  real  aspect  of  Nature  the  poet  sees 
with  a clear  eye  and  calm  mind,  at  the  same  time  employing  it  in 
his  poem  as  a setting  which  contrasts  with  poignancy  a violent 
emotion  or  deep  mood  which  he  or  his  characters  experience.  But  it 
is  when  the  mind  falters  before  the  force  of  violent  emotion  and 
the  eyes  sees  falsely  that  this  impassiveness  and  apathy  of  Nature 
is  interpreted  by  the  poet  or  his  characters  as  hostility  or 

1.  T.  G.  Shairp,  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature .1884 .p.lia 


, 


« 


■ 

' 


. 


10 


antipathy  and  gives  rise  to  what  I have  previously  defined  and  il- 
lustrated as  the  antipathetic  fallacy. 

An  interesting  example  of  the  Apathetic  Reality  is  that  passage 
in  the  Aeneid  where  Vergil  sets  off  the  tumult  in  the  heart  of  the 
wronged  and  lovelorn  queen  Dido  in  contrast  with  the  calm  and 
silence  of  night 

Mox  erat,  et  placidum  carpebant  fessa  soporem 
corpora  per  terras,  silvaeque  et  saeva  quierant 
aequora,  cum  medio  volvuntur  sidera  lapsu 
cum  tacet  omnis  ager , pecudes  pictaeque  vo lucres, 
qua^ue  latus  late  liquidos,  quaeque  aspera  dlurnis 
rura  tenent,  somno  positae  sub  nocte  silenti 
(lenibant  curas  et  cor da  oblita  laborum) 
at  non  infelix  anirni  Phoenissa,  neque  umquam 
solvitur  in  somno s,  oculisve  aut  pectore  noctem 
accipit;  ingeminant  curae , rursus  que  resurgens 
saevit  amor,  maqnoque  irarum  fluctuat  aestu. ' 

The  peaceful  quiet  of  the  night.  All  Mature  is  sunk  in  calm 
sleep;  even  the  weary  creatures,  the  woods  and  wild  seas,"  when  all 
the  land  is  still,.. are  couched  in  sleep  beneath  the  silent  night.... 
But  not  so  the  unhappy  Dido  ; she  never  sinks  to  sleep,  nor  drav/s 
the  night  into  her  eyes  and  breast;  her  pangs  redouble  and  her  love, 
swelling,  surges  forth  anew,  as  the  mighty  tides  of  passion  clash 
within  her". 

One  is  struck  by  the  modern  tone  of  this  passage,  for  it  seems 
that  it  might  have  been  written  by  a poet  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
This  contrast  between  Mature's  calm  and  the  souls1’1  tumult  certainly 
must  belong,  one  thinks,  to  a late  and  self-conscious  age.  Among 
the  English  poets,  the  pathetic  fallacy,  as  well  as  the  apathetic 
reality,  has  often  been  treated  by  Byron,  Meats,  Shelly,  Tennyson 
and  others, -one  may  readily  observe-  to  enhance  the  emotional  effect 

of  a setting,  by  representing  Mature  in  a mood  corresponding  to,  or 

contrasting  with  the  human  one  which  the  poet  wishes  to  represent. 
l.Vergil.Aeneid4 .522-522 ; 


11  a. 


In  such  instances  fallacies  are  obviously  premeditated  literary 
iornis.  That  there  are  other  and  spontaneous  instances,  to  be 
sure,  leaving  a different  and  perhaps  stronger  impression  upon 
the  reader  is  equally  obvious,  but  for  the  purposes  of  this  the- 
-is,  I must  i.or6ro  strict  distinction  of  such  a nature,  which 
can  oe  based  only  on  analysis  that  must  seem  often  unduly  sub- 
jective . 

Perhaps  it  is  because  of  the  frequent  employing  of  these 
fallacies  by  the  modern  poets  that  they  have  been  termed  charac- 
teristically modern  and  romantic.  But  the  term  ’romantic'  has 
been  subject  to  so  many  different  interpretations  that  it  may  be 
said  to  lose  its  value  somewhat  for  the  interpreting  of  the  re- 
sults of  my  investigation;  indeed,  it  may  confuse  rather  than 
illuminate.  Yet  if,  at  any  rate,  the  terms  ’’romantic"  and"mo- 
iern  * in  reference  to  poetic  expression,  are  to  be  considered 
onlt/  as  peculiarly  synonymous,  than  I may  maintain  with  confi- 
dence that  such  "modern"  or  "romantic"  elements  are  not  lacking 
in  the  poetry  of  classical  antiquity. 


11  Id 


Chapter  II. 

The  religion  of  a people  is  inextricably  woven  in  the  thread 

of  its  daily  life;  and  the  life  o^?  the  Greeks  and  Romans  was 

c 

greatly  colored  by  siirvivals  of  a primitive  belief  in  animism. 
This  belief  found  its  expression  in  a man-sided  religious  life 
filled  with  cult  and  ritual,  full  of  divinities,  petty  or  terri- 
ble, but  generally  vague  and  ill-defined.  "When,”  asks  Augustine 
"can  I ever  mention  in  one  passage  of  this  book  all  the  names 
of  gods  and  goddesses,  which  they  have  been  able  to  compass  in 
great  volumes,  seeing  that  they  allot  to  every  individual  thing 
the  special  function  of  some  divinity ?"'  ) 

1.  C.  B.  4,8 


- 


12 

These  spirits  or  daamones  who  inhabited  the  woodland  country- 
side, in  fact,  the  entire  realm  of  Nature,  \e  may  know  better  in  art 
and  poetry.  "Faunus  lover  of  fugitive  nymphs”  may  have  been  a pretty 
conceit  expressed  by  Horace,  but  ”it  is  quite  probable  that  the 
rustics  took  the  fauns,  nymphs  and  satyrs  seriously.  "Trees", 

says  Pliny,  "were  temples  of  divinities,  and  in  the  old  way  the  sim- 
ple country  folk  to  this  day  dedicate  any  remarkable  tree  to  a god. 
Nor  have  we  more  worship  for  images  glittering  with  gold  and  ivory 
than  for  groves  and  the  very  silence  that  is  in  them. ^ These 
spirits,  invisible  and  impersonal,  possessed  material  bodies,  they 
believed,  shadowy  no  doubt,  and  subtle,  and  impalpable,  and  carried 
on  an  existence  of  their  own.  To  the  early  Roman  mind  they  were  in- 
deed real,  possessing  human  moods,  emotions  and  activities. 

Traces  of  animism  were  for  a long  time  noticeable  at  Rome,  es- 
pecially among  the  peasants.  The  ex-voto  offerings  found  in  springs 
a,nd  groves,  the  worship  of  the  lares  and  penates,  the  offerings  that 
Horace  so  sympathet ically  encourages  among  the  simple  people  of  the 
Sabine  hills,  the  ease  with  which  even  the  state  officials  could 
3reate  "abstract"  deities  out  of  mere  daylight  exper iencas-all  these 
prove  that  animism  was  not  far  off.  And  it  is  the  same  psychology 
'/hich  makes  possible  animism  in  religion  and"sympathy  between  man  and 
:iature"  in  poetry.  Vergil  in  the  Georgia  s and  Shelley  in  "The 
Sensitive  Plant"are  simply  employing  imagination  so  as  to  re-experi- 
jnce  something  that  we  have  none  of  us  far  outgrown. 

1. T.  R.  Glover,  The  Conflict  of  Religion  in  the  Harly  Roman 
Umpire ,19Q9,p. 12 

2.  Pliny,  N.B.12.5 

3.  Tenney  Frank,  in  Glass  Jour.  Vol. 11 , May, 1916 ,p^85 


13 


But  in  the  course  of  time  Greek  myths  killed.  Homan  animism,  just 
as  Greek  rationalism  had  killed  the  myths.  After  the  "religious 
panic”  of  the  Second  Punic  War,  as  Fowler  calls  it,  the  cultured 
Roman  was  no  naive  primitive.  A gulf  of  cold  fact  soon  closed  in 
between  man  and  IJature.  ^ Every  educated  Roman  was,  if  not  a be- 
liever in  Epicurean  theories  of  Atomism,  at  least  not  unaware  of 
their  existence  and  their  implications.  It  would  therefore,  have 
been  childish  to  seek  to  retain  or  perhaps  to  revive,  in  a religious 
sense,  the  mood  of  animism. 

Yet  even  if  the  mood  of  animism  is  revived  by  the  Latin  poets 

solely  for  literary  effect,  it  is  to  this  revival  or  "make-believe” 
owe 

that  we N that  immensely  beautiful  poetic  expression  of  Nature  which 

{ 2 ) 

Matthew  Arnold  calls  "natural  magic”,  ' which  J.  A.  X.  Thomson 
terms,  in  part.,  Bar  bar  ism  J^lnd  which  entrances  us  partly  because  some- 
where in  us  there  sleeps  a memory  of  miracles  wrought  in  days  when 
every  rock  and  tree  and  river  w as  alive  with  supernatural  force.  And 
it  was  perhaps  this  feeling  for  nature  that  caused  the  great  Shelly 
to  write  in  a sonnet: 

Little  we  see  in  Nature  that  is  ours; 

Great  GodJ  I'd  rather  be 
A Pagan  suckled  in  a creed  outworn; 

So  might  I,  standing  on  this  pleasant  lea, 

Have  glimpses  that  would  make  me  less  forlorn; 

Have  sight  of  Proteus  rising  from  the  sea;  . . 

Or  hear  old  Triton  blow  his  wreathed  horn  . ' 


1.  Tenney  Frank,  Fortunatus  et  Ille  . in  Glass.  Jour,,  lllviayg  1916p. 585 

2.  Matthew  Arnold,On  the  Study  of  Celtic  Literature ,1905 ,p. 126 

3.  J.  A.  X.  Thomson,  Greeks  and  Barbarians, 1921. p.  148 

4.  •ordsworth*  s Complete  Poetical  Works  j Cambridge  Edition  1904 p34 9 


14 


And  although  there  was  little  in  this  belief  to  awaken  in  the 
early  Romans  sympathies  and  affections  with  regard  to  the  surrounding 
world,  among  the  Latin  poets,  however,  the  imaginative  and  literary 
recreation  of  this  belief,  which  I may  characterize  as  Animization, 
induced  a poetic  treatment  of  nature  in  some  respects,  at  least  as 
diversified  as  among  the  poets  of  any  period.  The  Roman  poets,  how- 
ever showed  tendencies  unlike  those  of  modern  extremists  because  they 
were  more  dependent  upon  literary  convention  in  the  treatment  of 
their  themes  and  the  selection  of  their  forms.  Yet  a poet  is  by  his 
very  nature  primarily  subjective;  "he  may  deal  with  objective  things 
but,  endowed  with  the  divine  gift  of  the  imagination,  he  must  feel 
himself  in  touch  with  the  heart  of  the  world;  he  must  have  a temper- 
ment  sensitive  and  fine,  a temperment  shot  with  luminous  and  delicate 
threads  of  feeling? ^ 1 ^ In  short,  a poet  must  be,  in  a sense, "ro- 
mantic" 

fet  perhaps  not  all  the  modern  "romantic"  expressions  of  nature 
may  be  found  in  Latin  poetry,  and  only  under  the  stress  of  emotion 
does  tne  poeiPs  outlook  become  changed  and  his  strong  sense  of  reason 
and  restraint  falter  before  the  force  of  his  emotion.  Although 
Lature  herself  is  but  rarely  the  subject  of  poetic  mysticism,  at 
times  even  the  modern  note  of  the  sympathetic  sense  for  a moment 
appears  upon  the  horizon,  but  is  soon  lost  in  a more  or  less  re- 
strained treatment  of  a subject  which  is,  for  the  poet,  prescribed 
by  literary  convention. 


1. 


Liona  Pearl  Hoanett, 
1918)  p.  12 


xhe  iiea  in  Roman  Poe  try,  (master 1 s 


Thesis 


. 


15 


The  Roman  poet  was  chiefly  interested  in  man  and  his  desires 
and  ambitions:  the  Romans  were  an  objective  people;  woven  in  the  tex- 
ture of  their  thoughts  were  pictures  of  war , vast  empire,  govern- 
ment and  laws.  Besides,  the  Romans,  as  contrasted  with  the  Greeks, 
were  utilitarian  . They  were  as  a people,  rather  unobservant  of 

Mature  and  uninterested  in  natural  science  and  in  all  that  seemed  to 

no  « 

haveN practical  bearing.  The  cold  seriousness  of  the  Romans,  tneir 
matter-of-fact  good  sense, the  inflexibility  of  their  language  with 
its  limited  sentence  structure,  together  with  their  realistic 
tendency  did  not  allow/  their  feeling  for  Mature  to  proceed  in  very 
full  measure. ^ They  did  not  commune  with  Mature,  linking  their 
souls  with  hers,  nor  did  they  gather  from  her  light  of  the  moral  and 
spiritual  world.  The  more  comprehensive  view  of  Mature  as  a whole, 
which  belongs  rather  to  thought  and  reflection  than  to  feeling  and 
passion,  is  to  be  more  easily  found  in  the  philosophers  than  in  the 
poets  of  the  ancient  world.  These  are  perhaps  the  reasons  why  the 
the  Roman  poets  are  indicted  by  critics  for  failing  to  express  th6s# 
"sense  of  sympathy  between  man  and  nature,"  and  for  having  known 
little  of  "that  sense  of  grandeur  and  mystery"  which  is  perhaps  the 
most  prominent  characteristic  of  modern  poetry.  But  this  decision 
need  not  be  taken  as  final  in  regard  to  the  ancient  poets,  because 
on  account  of  their  literary  convention  their  expression,  thus  of 
necessity  limited,  cannot  be  considered  as  an  adequate  indication  of 
the  extent  of  their  emotional  nature. 

1.  Allen,  The  Treatment  of  Mature  in  the  Poetry  of  the  Roman 
Republic  , Madison,  Wis . , 1899  ,pp.  215-216 


■ 

. 


16 

But,  to  grasp  the  relation  between  Animization  and  the  Pathetic 
Fallacy,  let  us  turn  to  Vergil's  Georgies.  There  the  husbandman 
nurtures  and  fondles  the  tender  plants  as  though  they  were  living- 
creatures.  He  gives  them  water the  air's  searching  breath'  steals 
in,  and  'the  plants  take  courage'  ; he  overlays  them  with  stones  and 

jars  of  heavy  weight , thus  protecting  them  against  the  time 'when  the 

> 

sultry  dog-star  splits  the  fields  that  gape  with  thirst;  he  forms 
canes,  rods  and  stakes  on  which  'they  learn  to  mount  and  scorn  the 
winds';  he  spares  their  tenderness  and  while  'the  shoots  push 
joyously  forward'  he  does  not  prune  them  with  a knife- 'for  they 
shrink  under  the  steel'-  but  picks  them  with  his  fingers.  ^ 

Here  objects  in  nature  actually  live:  they  exhibit  feelings, 
emotions,  desires,-  an  extraordinary  instance  of  Animization.  That 
such  an  apparently  fantastic  expression  is  to  some  extent  justifiable 
even  from  a scientific  standpoint  has  been  recently  shown  experi- 
mentally by  Prof.  Jagadis  Chunder  Bose,  the  eminent  Hindoo  botanist, 
in  regard  to  organic  and  inorganic  objects,  particularly  in  the  in- 
stance of  plants.  He  has  shown  that  "plants  exhibit  many  of  the 
activities  which  we  have  been  accustomed  to  associate  only  with 
animal  life.  In  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  stimulus  of  any  kind 
will  induce  a responsive  thrill.  There  are  rhythmic  tissues  in  the 
plantjwhich,  like  those  in  the  animal,  go  on  throbbing  ceaselessly.... 
A time  comes  when,  after  an  answer  to  a supreme  shock,  there  is 
a sudden  end  of  the  plant's  power  to  give  any  further  response 

1.  Vergil , Georgies  2,  346-370 


, 


” 


* 

. 


17 


These,  our  mute  companions,  silently  growing  beside  our  door, 
have  now  told  us  their  life  tremulousness  and  their  death  spasm  in 
script  that  is  as  inarticulate  as  they.  May  it  not  be  said  that  this 
their  story,  has  a pathos  of  its  own  beyond  any  that  we  have  con- 
ceived?” d) 

May  it  not  also  be  said  that  the  truth  of  the  scientific  reve- 
lations of  Prof.  Bose  justifies  to  some  extent,  at  least  the  great- 
est primitive  belief,  or  shall  we  say,  instinctive  superstition  of 
man?  Is  it  not,  besides  an  indication  of  the  potency  or  the  true 
poetic  genius  in  its  dealing  with  the  unknown,  and  does  it  not  sug- 
gest that  a greater  Truth,  perhaps  never  to  be  discovered  by  science 
alone,  holds  sway  over  the  life  of  mankind  and  the  natural  world  to 
which  he  is  bound  in  mutual  service? 

Prof.  Bose, then  teaches  us  that  plants  feel,-  are  sensitive, 
because  they  respond  to  physical  stimuli.  As  to  whether  they  have 
our  sense  of  sympathy  and  the  higher  emotions  we  do  not  know.  And 
as  long  as  we  remain  in  ignorance  of  these  things  we  must  regard  all 
poetic  attribution  of  human  expression  to  inanimate  objects  as  possi- 
bly true  but  apparently  fallacious. 

At  this  point  we  may  return  to  our  original  topic  Anirnization, 
and  observe  its  relation  to  the  Pathetic  Fallacy.  We  turn  to  Vergil 
again.  In  the  case  of  the  joys  and  sorrow's  of  trees,  flowers  and 
rocks  that  the  shepherds  sang  of  upon  the  death  and  apotheosis  of 
Daphnis,  emotions  that  reflect  the  shepherds’ own  emotions,  we  find 
in  the  following  two  remarkable  passages,  illustrations  of  the 
pathetic  fallacy. 

1.  J.  G.  Bose,  Plant  -Autographs,  in  the  Annual  Report 
Smithsonian  Institution,  1914, p.  442 


18 


extinotum  nymphae  crude li  funere  Daphnim 
flebant  (vos  coryli  testes  et  flumina  Nymphis), 
ouin  oomplexa  sui  corpus  mis  era  bile  nati 
atque  deos  atque  astra  vocat  crudelia  mater, 
non  ulli  pastos  illis  egere  diebus 

frigida,  Daphni,  boves  ad  flumina;  nulla  neque  amnen  (25) 
libavit  quadrpes  nec  graminis  attigit  herbam. 

Daphni,  tuum  Poenos  etim  ingemuisse  leones 
interitum  montesque  feri  silvaeque  loquuntur. 


postquam  te  Fata  tulerunt 

ipsa  Pales  agros  atque  ipse  reliquit  Apollo. (25) 
grand ia  saepe  quibus  mandavimus  hordea  sulcis, 
infelix  lolium  et  steriles  nascuntur  avenae ; 
pro  mo  Hi  viola,  pro  pur  pur  eo  narcisso 
carduus  et  spinis  surgit  pa'liurus  acutis. 
spargite  humurn  foliis,  indue ite  fontibus  umbras,  (40) 
pastores  (mandat  fieri  sibi  talia  Daphnis), 
et  tumulum  facite  et  tumulo  superaddite  carmen: 

'Daphnis  ego  in  silvis,  hinc  usque  ad  sidera  notus, 
forinosi  pecoris  custos,  formosior  ipse'.  (1) 

Here  all  Nature  mourns:  beasts  forget  to  eat  or  drink  (1.25  and 
26);  the  mountains  and  woods  say  that  even  African  lions  moaned 
(1.27  and  28);  Pales  and  Apollo  leave  the  fields  (1.25);  unfruitful 
darnel  and  barren  oat-straws  spring  up  instead  of  grain (1.36  and  37); 
thistles  and  thorns  take  the  place  of  the  violet  and  narcissus  (1.  38 
and  39 ) 


This  passage  is  followed  by  another:  'Daphnis  I will  exalt  to 

( 2 ) 

the  stars;  me,  too,  Daphnis  loved,'  sang  the  shepherd  ken ale as 


Candidus  insuetum  miratur  lirnen  Olympi 
sub  pedibusque  videt  nubes  et  sidera  Daphnis 
ergo  alacris  silvas  et  cetera  rura  voluptas 
Panaque  pastoresque  tenet  Dryadasque  puellas. 
nec  lupus  insidias  pecori  nec  retia  cervis  (60) 
ulla  dolum  meditantur;  amat  bonus  otia  Daphnis. 
ipsi  laetitia  voces  ad  sidera  iactant 
intonsi  montes;  ipsae  iam  carmina  rupes, 
ipsa  sonant  arbusta;  'deus,  deus  ille , Menalca! ' 
Sis  bonus  o felixque  tuisl  en  quattuor  atas:,(65) 
ecce  duas  tibi,  Daphni,  duas  altaria  Phoebo.'‘~;' 


1.  Vergil,  Georgies ,2,  346-270 

2.  Vergil,  Etlogue  5,  52 

3.  Ibid.,  55-66 


' 


■ 


* 


19 


Daphnis  is  filled  with  wonder  when  he  reaches  Heaven:  ergo(1.58), 
the  woods,  all  the  countryside  are  filled  with  Tfrolic  gleeT.  Even 
the  wolf  becomes  peaceful:  'Kindly  Daphnis  loves  peace’.  Yea,  the 
very  mountains,  the  rocks,  the  groves  rejoice,  flinging  their  voices 
in  song  to  the  stars:  ’A  god  is  he,  a god,  MenalcasI ' 

Thus  far  we  have  witnessed  in  Vergil  instances  of  Animization 
and  the  Pathetic  Fallacy.  Hence  we  may  surmise  that  the  underlying- 
belief,  sincere  or  pretended,  in  animism,  makes  way  for  and  in  a sort 
justifies  the  expression,  under  force  of  a poignant  mood  or  violent 
emotion, of  the  pathetic  fallacy:  such  a fallacy,  with  the  presupposi- 
tion of  animism, seems  rather  natural  and  unstrained,  since  the  poet, 
apparently  freed  temporarily  from  the  restraint  of  reason,  un- 
consciously perhaps  falls  into  his  primitive  self,  recognizes  for 
the  time  life  in  Mature,  and  hence,  concomitant  human  expression. 

Also,  implied  and  invisible  feelings  and  emotions  in  Nature  may  seem 
visible  to  poets  through  a poetic  interpretation  of  accidental  and 
temporary  changes  in  physical  appearances  of  objects  in  Nature, 
appearances  which,  being  originally  imagined  symbols  of  human  moods 
or  emotions,  are  for  the  moment  interpreted  as  actual  emotional  ex- 
press io  ns . 

The  ’pathetic’  interpretation  of  such  appearances,  for  the  sake 
of  a desired  effect,  when  the  poet  is  not  clearly  moved  by  a mood  or 
emotion, is  a literary  conceit-  a ’cheating  of  the  fancy,'  as  Ruskin 
would  say.  When  such  an  interpretation  is  caused,  however,  by  the 
effect  upon  the  mind  of  a powerful  emotion,  and  is  'in  sympathy  with' 
or  shows  apathy  towards  the  poet’s  or  his  hero's  mood  or  emotion, 
actual  or  pretended,  it  is  what  we  have  called  the  Pathetic  fallacy. 

We  may  therefore  hazard  the  follov^ing  definition  as  final:  A poetic 


. 


, 


. 


, 


HO  a. 


form  of  expression,  spontaneous  or  premeditated,  that  is  in  effect 
such  an  interpretation  of  a temporary  change  in  appearance  of  an 
inanimate  or  brut6  object  or  natural  phenomenon  as  to  reveal  either 
a sympathetic  or  antipathetic  reflection  of  a mood  or  emotion  of 
the  poet  or  of  his  characters. 


20  b. 


Chapter  III. 

"Shat  the  Roman  poet  does  not  often  personalize  the  creatures 
of  nature  is  quite  true,"(D  asserts  one  scholar.  Shis  statement 
needs  further  explanation,  it  seems  to  me,  before  it  may  be  fully 
accepted.  Let  us  first  observe  that  literary  form  known  as  personi- 
fication, which  is  the  clothing  of  an  inanimate  thing  or  abstraction 
with  human  personality.  The  most  cursory  reader  of  the  classics 
will  admit  that  personification,  both  oi  abstractions  and  inanimate 
things,  is  more  or  less  frequently  employed  by  Vergil,  Ovid,  and 
other  poets  in  the  sense  that  objects  or  abstractions  are  treated 
for  the  moment  as  possessing  personality  and  represented  as  persons 
in  action.  Often  only  a personifying  epithet  is  used,  an  epithet 
which  is  strictly  applicable  only  to  a person,  as  "envious  night" 
or  "greedy  waves".  The  poet  may,  however,  prolong  his  personi- 
fication into  a more  detailed  characterization.  Perhaps  the  most 
familiar  illustration  of  this  is  Vergil’s  description  of  'Rumor' 
his  one  great  example  of  extended  personification. 

Ovid's  description  of  personified  'Rumor* ^ ) is  perhaps  indepen- 

dent of  Vergil' s, and,  to  some  extent,  more  telling.  Y.hile  he 
clearly  personifies  Rumor,  still  he  fixes  our  attention  more  upon 
the  house  of  Rumor  than  upon  Rumor  herself.  This  is  conceived  of 
as  a great  "whispering  gallery"  midway  of  land,  sea  and  sky,  a 
sort  of  cen- 

1.  Tenney  Prank,  Fortunatus  et  Idle  in  Class.  Jour.,  11  May, 
1916  p.  485 

2.  Vergil,  ^en.  4,. 173  ff. 

3.  OVid . Llet . , 12,39  ff. 


' • 


; 

.! 


, 


( 1 ) 

tral  office  for  dome  universal  news  agency.  ' In  the  same  passage 
we  have  minor  personifications  of  Credulity,  Error,  Joy,  Pear, 
Sedition  and  Whisperings.  In  all  these,  with  one  exception,  the 
personification  is  helped  out  by  a vividly  characterizing  epithet. 

Often  the  Roman  poets,  particularly  Ovid,  employ  curious  half- 
personifications, in  which  the  poet's  imagination,  while  partially 
bridging  the  chasm  between  the  inanimate  and  the  personal,  still 
finds  itself  unable  (or  unwilling?)  to  abandon  the  inanimate  side 
completely.  ^ 

Perhaps  just  as  often  objects  in  nature  are  personalized,  but 
not  so  extensively. 


Lucretius  personifies  even  his  'first-beginnings': 

Vt. 

fiet  ut  risu  tremulo  concussa  cachment  , r,  v 
et  lacrimis  salsis  umectent  ora  genasque  ’ 

And  the  winds,  the  clouds  and  the  sea: 


te  dea,  te  fugiunt  venti;  te  nubila  caeli 
adventumque  tuum  tibi  suavis  daedala  tellus 
suminittit  flores,  tibi  rident  aequora  pon^i 
placatumque  nitet  diffuse  lumine  caelum. 


And,  again,  'the  faithless  sea  laughing  treacherously': 


sed  quasi  naufragiis  magnis  multisque  coortis 
disiectare  so let  magnum  mare  transtra  cavernas 
antemnam  proram  raalos  tonsasque  natantis, 
per  terrarum  omnis  oras  fluitantia  aplustra 
ut  videantur  et  indicium  edant, 
infidi  mar  is  insidias  virisque  dolumque 
ut  vitare  velint,  neve  ullo  tempore  credaat 
subdola  cum  riaet  placidi  pellacia  ponti'0' 


1. Prank  T.  Miller,  Some  Features  of  Ovid's  Style  in  Class  Jour. 

11, June  1916,  p.  618 
2.1b. p.527 

3. Lucretius ,Le  Rerum  Latura.l,  916-92GCf.  also  2,976-978 
4. Ibid 11, 6- 9 
5. Ibid, 2,  652-669 


22 

Catullus  personifies,  in  a simile,  the  dawn  at  sea: 

Hio  qUalis  flatu  placid  urn  mare  matutino 
horrificans  kephyrus  proclivis  incitat ‘ undis 
Aurora  exoriente  vagi  sub  limins  Solis, 
quae  tarde  primum  clement i flamine  pulsae 
procedunt  lenique  sonant  plangore  cachinni, 

Post  vento  crescente  magis  increbescunt  /,  » 
purpureaque  procul  nantes  a luce  refulgent' 

And  Vergil,  the  ocean: 

qualis  ubi  alterno  procurrens  gurgite  pontus 
nunc  ruit  ad  terram  scopulosque  super iac it  unda 
spumens  extremamque  s inu  perfundit  h&renarn, 
nunc  rap id us  retro  atque  aestu  revoluta  resorbena 
saxa  fugit  litusque  vado  labente  relinquit . ' ’ 

And  a tree  being  cut  down  by  woodmen: 

ilia  usque  minatur 

et  tremefacta  comam  concusso  vertice  nutat 
volneribus  donee  paulatim  evicta  supremem 
congemuit  traxitque  iugis  avolsa  ruinam. 

And  Ovid  endow  et  even  a horse  with  the  personality  of  a brave 

Roman.  A devastating  scourge  comes  upon  the  earth  and  the  weaker 

animals  are  destroyed;  the  horse’s  courage  and  victorious  spirit 

disappears,  and  now,  forgetful  of  his  former  glory,  he  actually 

groans  in  his  stall,  since  he  fears  the  approach  of  such  inglorious 

death. 


acer  equus  quondam  magnaeque  in  pulvere  famae 
degeneret  palmas  veterumque  oblitus  honorum 
ad  praesepe  gemit  leto  moriturus  inert i'°) 

This  may,  on  the  other  hand,  be  considered  an  exaggerated 

reality  and  denote,  perhaps,  the  intimacy  of  feeling  between  the 

3.6  3 ^ 

Roman  warrior  and  his  horse.  That  even  dumb  animals  react  more  or 


1. Cat., 64,  £69-275 
£. Vergil,  Aen  11,  624-628 
5. Ovid,  Let. .7.  542-545 


23 


intelligently  to  outside  forces  is,  of  course,  unquestionable,  but 
one  hesitates,  except  in  poetry,  to  interpret  their  reactions  in 
human  terms. 

In  the  passage  last  quoted  there  is  a slight  hint  of  what  may 
be  called  an  intentional  pathetic  fallacy  that  is  quite  modern.  Ho 
doubt  the  poet  desired  to  accentuate  the  mood,  of  the  picture,  in 
order  to  arouse  in  us  an  appreciation  of  his  effective  description 
of  the  scourge  and  the  havoc  it  wrought  in  its  wake.  But  in  that 
case  we  must  suppose  that  he  himself  was  deeply  moved  by  the  mental 
image  that  he  was  translating  into  language. 

I have  given  at  random  these  examples  of  personification  of 
objects  or  phenomena  of  nature,  although  that  literary  form  in  itself 
merits  more  complete  investigation,  and  I feel  quite  certain  that  the 
nature  of  the  personification,  its  literary  or  poetic  value,  and  its 
relation  to  Animization  and  other  forms  depends  entirely  and  sepa- 
rately upon  the  belief  and  personality  of  the  poet. 

For  example,  Lucretius  is  not  ’cheating’  his  or  our  fancy  when 
he  speaks  of’ the  faithless  sea  laughing  treacherously. ’ ^ ^Lucretius 
is  not  here  influenced  so  much  by  his  emotion  or  poetic  imagination 
as  by  his  philosophic  conviction.  He  believed  the  sea  actually  was 
unfriendly  to  man.  In  his  ’Be  Eerum  Katura’  he  denies  all  super- 
natural agency,  attributes  consciousness,  will  and  passion  to  the 
great  creative  power  of  nature,  the  source  of  all  life,  joy,  beauty 
and  art.  His  personification  of  the  sea  is  therefore  metaphorical, 
no  doubt,  but  it  cannot,  it  seems  to  me,  be  called  ’a  cheating  of  the 
fancy’  . 


1.  Gf.  note  3 on  p.  19 


24 


That  he  thought  the  sea  treacherous  is  quite  certain;  it  is  also 
just  as  likely  that  he  expected  his  reader  to  agree  with  him. 

Vergil,  I have  noticed,  uses  personification  primarily  in 
similes,  to  illustrate  and  accentuate  action.  Accordingly,  he  at- 
tributes metaphorically  and  boldly  verbs  of  action  to  objects  in 
nature  primarily  for  artistic  effect,  and  particularly  to  strengthen 
the  action  in  a scene.  Moreover,  it  is  usually  difficult  to  decide 
whether  he  means  an  object  or  phenomenon  of  Nature  or  the  divinity, 
possessing  human  feelings  and  capable  of  human  activities,  residing 
in,  and  presiding  over, it. 

At  this  point  it  is  well  to  attempt  to  differentiate  between 
that  literary  form  which  I termed  animization  and  the  one  ve  are  now 
discussing.  In  Animization  the  poet  attributes  sensibilities,  feel- 
ings and  emotions  to  objects  in  nature,  perhaps  presupposing  an  indi- 
vidual spirit  or  daemon  in  every  object  without  attempting  to  differ- 
entiate between  the  spirit  and  the  object,  although  it  was  supposed 
that  these  spirits  were  physical  beings.  In  the  instance  of  the 

passage,  from  Vergil’s  Georgies , quoted  on  p.  14,  in  describing  the 

fi o them 

emotional  life  of  plants,  Vergil  does  not  far  a moment  attribute^ any 
sharacter istics  which  are  not,  for  the  believer  in  animism,  natural 
bo  plants.  Personification,  on  the  other  hand,  is  usually  a meta- 
phorical description  of  an  object  in  terms  of  action  that  is  appli- 
sable  only  to  persons. 

That  there  is  any  relation  between  Personification,  as  a literary 
form  and  the  pathetic  fallacy  I cannot  find  evidence.  That  it  is 
possible  to  deduce  some  relation  between  the  pathetic  fallacy  and 
personifying  epithets  applied  to  inanimate  objects  I shall  attempt 
to  show  in  a following  chapter. 


Chapter  IV. 


25 


According  to  a popular  interpretation  of  mythology,  myths  may 
be  generally  considered  a personification  to  the  controlling  forces 
of  nature,  forces  personified  at  first  as  incorporeal  gods; but  these 
gods,  having  ages  ago,  it  was  believed,  undergone  anthropomorphism, 
figured  in  myth  as  men  of  like  passions  with  mortals,  but  with  great- 
er power.  But  even  more  interesting  evidence  of  the  supernatural 
are  the  stories  of  metamorphoses , Hellenistic  tales  popularized, 
among  the  Romans,  particularly  by  Ovid  in  his  Metamorphoses;  a roman- 
tic description  of  those  miraculous  changes  rehearsed  in  Greek  and 
Roman  mythology,  all  the  way  from  the  first  great  metamorphosis, 
when  chaos  became  an  orderly  universe,  down  to  the  very  age  of  the 
poet  himself,  when  the  soul  of  Julius  Caesar  was  changed  to  a star 
and  set  in  the  heavens  among  the  immortals.  Ovid’s  story  generally 
records  the  change  as  complete  and  effective,  and  this  effect  is  not 
vitiated  but  rather  enhanced  by  some  characteristic  of  the  new 
creature,  reminiscent  of  the  old,  as  in  the  case  of  Daphne, ^ 
whose  change  into  the  laurel  is  indeed  complete  but  not  so  com- 
plete that  the  gleam  of  her  beauty  is  lost.  This  remains  in  the 

hard,  polished,  and  glistening  leaves  of  the  tree;  similarly  in  the 
of  (2) 

case  Lycaon  ; in  the  case  of  Mt.  Tmolus,  , however , who  in  the  story 
becomes  Judge  Tmolus,  we  oannot  be  quite  sure  whether  it  is  a mount- 
ain or  judge  who  is  presiding  over  the  contest  in  music  between 
Apollo  and  Pan,  so  incompletely  has  Ovid  conceived  the  personifi- 


cation of  the  mountain. 


(3) 


1.  Ovid  sMet.l.  548  ff, 

2.  ibid,  1 , 232ff. 

3* ibid, llj 157f f. 


(JO 

(1)  (2)  (3) 

Ovid  often  mixes  fact  and  figure.  Thus,  Atlas,  and  Cyane, 

(4)  their 

and  Arethusa,  mountain,  pool  and  stream  are  still  confused  with^ 

several  personifications. 

Trees  have  always  had,  in  the  minds  of  men  a half-human 
characteristic.  This  is  true  even  in  our  own  time,  and  much  more 
was  it  the  case  in  the  days  when  any  tree  trunk  might  be  the  lurk- 
ing place  of  some  shy  dryad  of  the  woods,  or  the  actual  person  of 
some  mortal  who  had  undergone  metamorphosis.  Thus,  the  sacred  oak 

of  Geres  contains  an  imprisoned  nymph  whose  blood  flows  under 

( 5 ) 

the  ax  stroke  of  Erysichthon , , and  thus  Polydorus'  blood  flows 

(6) 

from  the  sprouted  spear- shaft  thrust  in  his  body.  Ovid  has  him- 


self recorded  many  metamorphoses  of  persons  into  trees:  Daphne  into 

the 
(10) 


( 7 ) (8 ) (9 ) 

a laurel;  Syrinx  into  reeds;  the  Heliades  into  poplars,  and 


many  others  into  as  many  objects. 

With  all  these  stories  in  mind,  it  was  very  easy  for  Ovid  to 
tell  the  story  reversed,  of  trees  not  changed  to  persons,  but  en- 
dowed, like  persons,  with  powers  of  locomotion  and  with  appreciation 

(11) 

of  the  beauty  of  Orpheus'  music. 


1.  2,272ff.;  11, 157ff.;  12,614ff.;  14,573ff. 

2.  4,631 

3.  5,409 

4.  5,572 

5.  8,743 

6.  Vergil,  Aen  3,  18ff. 

7.  Met.  l,542ff. 

8.  ibid. l,689ff. 

9.  ibid.  2, 329ff.;10, 91, 263 

10.  Of  E.J. Miller,  Some  features  of  Ovid's  Style  in  Glass. 

Jour.  June , 1916 , Vol . 11  up. 513-534 

11.  Met,  10,  86f f 


, 


- 


. 


. 


, 


* 


27 


We  can,  therefore,  see  how  personalization  grei  to  be  one  of  the 
noticeable  character ist ics  of  the  ancient  aspect  of  Nature:  every 
animal,  tree,  flower,  river  and  rock  became  pregnant  with  per- 
sonality. The  laurel  was  Danhne , the  flower  was  Narcissus,  Gyane 

fl) 

a fountain,  Galatea  was  the  summer  sea,  Arachne  the  spider  and  so  on. 

According  to  the  poets  the  persons  metamorphosed  continued  to 
exist  as  birds  or  animals  or  plants,  but  retained  their  former  hu- 
man personality.  They  are  usually  represented  by  the  different 
poets  in  a certain  characteristic  mood  and  are  thus  alluded  to,  for 
artistic  effect,  to  arouse  a desired  mood  in  the  reader,  or  to  ac- 
centuate the  emotional  setting  of  a scene. 

For  example,  the  song  of  the  nightingale,  which  is  poetically 

called  !Tthe  Naulian  bird  lamenting  the  death  of  Itys,TT  is  the  symbol 

of  grief.  And  Propertius,  reminding  himself  that  his  mistress’ 

birthday  is  at  hand,  drives  away  gloom  and  worry  in  this  wise  : 

aspiciam.  nullos  hcdierna  luce  dolentes 

et  -Niobae  lacrimas  supprimat  ipse  lapis 

alcyonum  positis  requj^gant  ora  querelis, 

increpe t absumptum  neo  mater  Ityn 

s 

And  Catullus,  in  a letter  to  Hortalus,  likens  his  songs  for 

his  .brother’s  death  to  those  of  the  nightingale: 

& 

qualia  sub  dery.s  ramorum  cone  in  it  umbris 
Baulias  absumpti  fata  gemens  Ityli 

1. Martinengo-Cesaresco : the  Outdoor  life  in  Greek  and  Homan 
Poets,  London, 1911, p.  159. 

2.  Prop. 3, 10, 7ff . 

3.  Gat. 65 ,13f f . 


t 


r 


f 

t 


r 


28 


Propertius,  once  more,  describes  the  grief  of  Cynthia  v ith 
these  illusions: 

non  tam  nocturna  volucris  funesta  quei^La 
Athica  Cecropiis  obstrepit  in  fo'liis 
nec  tantum  IUobe  bis  sex  ad  busta  super ba 
sollicito  lacrirnas  defluit  a Sipylo  } 

And  Ovid  maxes  Sappho  write  to  Phaon  : 


incubui  tetigique  locum,  qua  parte  fuisti; 
grata  prius  lacrirnas .conbibit  herba  meas 

pO£g_Jtis  lugere  videntur 
et  nullae  dulce  queruntur  aves; 


quin  e tiara 
frondibus , 


rami 

(2 


Here  branches  lay  aside  their  leaves  and  grieve,  in  sympathy 


with  Sappho,  and  birds  cease  their  sweet  warbling.  And  to  accent- 
uate further  Sappho's  mood  Ovid  continues: 

solum  virum  non  ulta  pie  maestissima  mater 
concinit  Ismarium  Daulias  ales  Ityn 
ales  Ityn,  Sappho  desertos  cantat  amores- 
hactenus;  ut  media  cetera  nocte  silent  (3) 

In  the  above  passage,  not  content  with  the  effect  of  the 
pathetic  fallacy  in  'quin  etiam  rami  positis  lugere  videntur 
frondibus1  Ovid  works  in  his  favorite  symbol  of  grief:  the  Daulian 
bird  lamenting  Itys.  Then,  like  a painter  perfecting  the  background 
in  a portrait,  in  the  last  two  lines  he  brings  out  the  finishing 
touches  of  his  picture  with  the  striking  simplicity  and  naivete/ 


that  is  so  characteristic  of  his  art:  ’The  bird  sings  of  Itys, 
Sappho  sings  of  love  abandoned, -that  is  all:  all  else  is  silent  as 

midnight. 


In  view  of  the  preceding,  I believe  that  an  investigation  will 
prove  that  such  allusions  to  metamorphosed  characters  are,  among  the 
Latin  poets,  commonplaces,  probably  borrowed  from  Homer  or 


l.Prop. 2 , 20, b- 9 
2. Ovid, Her. 15,  140-256 
o. Of .Ovid, Hem  Am. 6 Goff. 

4 . Gf . Homer  , Odyssey  5-9,  513ff.:  ’the  Daulian  bird,  etc.’ 


29 


Alexandrian  poets,  and  are  used,  for  artistic  effect,  as  character- 
istic symbols  to  accentuate  the  emotional  setting  of  a scene. 

Ovid,  to  be  sure,  makes  transformed  characters  in  the  Lie  tamo  rphoscs 
of  paramount  interest  in  themselves,  and  Yergil,  in  several  in- 
stances,  mentions  such  a realistic  manner,  sometimes  to  indicate 

* A 

a portent . ^ 

But  instances  of  metamorphosis  we  must  exclude  from  the  limits 
of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  since  characters  metamorphosed  were  con- 
ceived of  in  antiquity  as  the  persons  they  had  been  rather  than  the 
objects  they  had  become,  and  hence  their  sympathies  and  antipa- 
thies still  seemed  real  rather  than  fallacious.  In  fact  the  idea 
of  metamorphoses  might  be  construed,  on  the  whole,  as  an  unconscious 
groping  of  the  imaginative  ancient  mind  to  establish  a link  be- 
tween the  human  and  brutish  or  inanimate  worlds. 

l.e.g.  Aen.ll ,274ff. 


Chapter  V. 


30. 


Volumes  have  been  written  by  modern  scholars  on  the  subject 
of  oracles,  divination  and  omens  of  antiquity  with  the  purpose 
of  showing  what  a significant  part  they  played  in  the  life  of 
the  Greeks  and  Romans.  Not  only  did  the  untutored  believe  in 
divination,  but  the  Stoics  found  a philosophic  justification  for 
it*  The  flight  of  birds,  the  entrails  of  beasts,  rain,  thun- 
der, lightning,  dreams,  — almost  everything  was  a means  of  div- 
ination. What  An  abundance  of  signs,  omens  and  dreams  the  anci- 
ent historians  record  J Horace  uses  them  pleasantly  enough  in  his 
Odes  - like  much  else  such  things  are  charming,  if  one  does  not 

p 

believe  in  them.  * but  it  is  abundantly  clear  that  it  took  an 
effort  to  be  rid  of  such  belief.  * 

n Superstition”,  says  Cicero,  "follows  you  up,  is  hard  upon 
you,  pursues  you  wherever  you  turn.  If  you  hear  a prophet,  or 
an  omen;  if  you  sacrifice  ; if  you  catch  sight  of  a bird;  if  you 
see  a Chaldean  or  a haruspex;  if  it  lightens,  if  it  thunders,  if 
anything  is  struck  by  lightning;  if  anything  like  a portent  is 
born  or  occurs  in  any  way  - something  or  other  of  the  kind  must 
generally  be  happening  so  that  you  can  never  be  at  ease  and  have 
a quiet  mind.  The  re£uge  from  all  our  toils  and  anxieties  would 
seem  to  be  sleep.  Yet  from  sleep  itself  the  most  of  our  cares 

It  / 

and  terrors  come.  The  argument  of  the  later  Stoics,  well 

Bummed  up  by  Cicero,  is  of  particular  significance  here,  consider- 
ing that  the  Stoic  philosophy  and  religion,  for  a long  time  pre- 
valent in  Greece ? greatly  influenced  for  more  than  two  centuries 

1.  Cf.  Cicero,  De  Divinatione  I.,  82-83 

2.  Cf.  Odes  III.  , 27 

3.  T.  R.  Glover,  The  Conflict  of  Religions  in  the  Early  Roman 
Empire,  1909,  p.  17 

4.  Cf.  Arnold,  Roman  Stoicism,  1911  Chap.  XVI. 


, 


31. 


the  entire  Roman  world.  Divination  was  justified  by  the  Stoics 
by  the  doctrine  of  <rup- TuV  o/^oJu/  or  Sympathy  of  the 
Whole.  This  conception,  in  the  main,  was  as  follows:  all  the 
world  is  working  together;  it  is  all  one  living  whole,  with  one 
soul  through  it.  This  soul  is  Phusis,  the  life  of  the  world,  and, 
from  another  point  of  view,  the  Law  of  Nature;  11  it  is  the  great 
causation  by  which  all  events  occur;  for  the  Phusis  which  shapes 
things  towards  their  end  acts  always  by  the  laws  of  causation. 
Phusis  is  not  a sort  of  arbitrary  personal  goddess,  upsetting  the 
natural  order;  Phusis  is  the  natural  order,  and  nothing  happens 
without  a cause.  A natural  law,  yet  a natural  law  which  is  alive, 

i 

which  is  itself  life,  it  becomes  indistinguishable  from  a purpose, 
the  purpose  of  the  great  world  - process  ,,f  ..... . It  approaches 

our  idea  of  a "definite  personal  God,  and,  since  it  must  be  in 
some  sense  material,  it  is  made  up  of  the  finest  material  there 
is....  fire ... .intellectual  fire  that  is  present  in  life,  a fire 

which  has  consciousness  and  life,  and  is  not  subject  to  decay. 

This  fire,  Phusis,  God,  is  in  all  creation. 

Since  Phusis  is  throughout  the  world,  the  world  is  one  great 
unit,  of  which  no  single  part  can  either  rejoice  or  suffer  with- 
out the  rest  being  affected.  ....  A grand  conception,  the  truth 

of  which  is  illustrated  in  the  ethical  world  by  the  feelings  of 
good  men,  and  in  the  world  of  natural  science  --  we  moderns  may 

be  excused  for  feeling  a little  surprise  — by  the  fact  that  the 
stars  twinkle.  It  is  because  they  are  so  sorry  for  us:  as  well 

they  may  be!  " 

1.  Cf.  Gilbert  Murray,  The  Stoic  Philosophy,  1915,  pp.  39-43 


And  so  we  see  that,  for  Stoics,  sympathy  runs  through  all 
the  universe.  Why,  even  the  moon  sympathizes]  Thus  Vergil  re- 
presents the  noon  as  friendly  towards  the  Argives  when  they  rushed 
from  Tenedos  to  Troy  *amid  the  friendly  silence  of  the  peaceful 
moon,  seeking  the  well  - known  shores.* 

et  iam  Argiva  phalanx  ins  true  tis  navibus  ibat 
a Tenedo,  tacitae  per  arnica  silentia  lunae 
litora  nota  petens,  flammas  cum  regia  puppis 
extulerat,  fatisque  deum  defensus  iniquis 
inclusos  utero  Danaos  et  pinea  furtim 
laxat  claustra  sinon 

How,  therefore,  not  only  the  supernatural,  but  particularly 
Nature,  is  in  Vergil  closely  allied  with  human  feeling;  how  the 
steadfast  course  of  Nature  in  her  familiar  road  symbolizes  that 
which  is  familiar  and  welcome  among  men;  how  discord  in  Nature 
sympathizes  with  strange  and  sad  happenings  in  the  human  world  -- 
— I shall  attempt  to  show  presently  in  collected  evidence. 

At  present  let  us  pick  up  the  threads  of  our  argument  and 
observe  what  relation  there  was  between  the  doctrine  of 
and  divination.  M What  connection  has  divination  with  the  nature 
of  things  ? w asks  Cicero.  **And  even  if  it  were  united  and 
joined  therewith,  so  as  to  form  one  harmonious  whole,  which  I see 
is  the  opinion  of  the  natural  philosophers  and  especially  of  those 
who  say  that  all  things  that  exist  are  but  one  whole;  still  what 
correspondence  can  there  be  between  the  order  of  the  universe  and 
the  discovery  of  a treasure?  For  if  an  increase  of  my  wealth  is 
indicated  by  the  entrails  of  a victim,  and  this  fact  is  a necessa- 
ry link  in  the  chain  of  nature,  then  it  follows,  in  the  first 

0 

place,  that  we  must  suppose  that  the  entrails  themselves  form 
1.  Aen.  II. , 254  ff . 


I 


. 


- 

■ 


. . 

' 


■ 


■ 


. 

- 

. 

■ 

’ 

% 

33 


other  links;  and  secondly,  that  my  private  gain  is  connected  with 
the  nature  of  things,  For  the  Stoics  have  collected  many 

cases  which  they  think  confirm  the  notion,  as  when  they  assert 
that  the  little  livers  of  little  mice  increase  in  winter,  and 
that  dry  pennyroyal  flourishes  in  the  coldest  weather,  . ...  that 
the  chords  of  a stringed  instrument  at  times  give  notes  different 

from  their  usual  ones,  and  that  trees  lose  their  vitality 

as  the  moon  declines,  just  as  the  dry  up  in  winter,  and  that 
this  is  the  time  to  cut  them.  Why  need  I speak  of  the  seas,  and 
the  tides  of  the  ocean,  the  flow  and  ebb  of  which  are  said  to  be 
governed  by  the  moon?  and  many  other  examples  might  be  related 
to  prove  that  some  natural  subsists  between  of jects  apparently 
remote  and  incongruous,  ,,,,,,  Antipater,  Chrysippus  and  Posei- 
donius  ••  all  assert  the  same  proposition  77  namely,  that  the 
divine  and  sentient  energy  which  extends  through  the  universe , 
directs  us  even  in  the  choice  of  the  victim  by  whose  entrails  we 
are  to  frame  our  divinations.  And  to  improve  upon  this  theory, 
you  will  agree  with  them  in  asserting  that  at  the  very  instant 
that  the  sacrifice  is  offered,  a certain  appropriate  change  takes 
place  in  the  victim*s  entrails,  so  that  we  can  therein  discover 
some  signal  addition  or  deficiency,  since  all  things  are  obedient 
to  the  will  of  the  gods,"  In  brief,  there  is  a certain  con- 
nection and  conjunction  of  nature  (continuatio  coniunctioque 
naturae),^*  a natural  sympathy  and  correspondence  in  the  nature 

1,  De  Div.  , II,,  35 

2.  ibid.  II.,  142 


of  things(vis  consensusque  naturae),  which  makes  possible  divi- 
nation, and  that  a long  continuance  of  observations  has  created  the 

art, 

Thus  we  find  that  the  religious  atmosphere  of  the  Romans  was 
permeated  with  such  conceptions  and  usages  but  in  the  neighborhood 
of  a skepticism  on  the  part  of  men  like  Gicero  and  Horace,  who 
were  probably  infrequent  as  compared  with  the  number  of  the  credu- 
lous, Accordingly,  in  the  Roman  poets  thehe  are  countless  refer- 
ences to  omens  and  portents  many  of  which  are  interpretations  of 
natural  phenomena.  Omens,  it  should  be  observed,  *have  no  sig- 
nificance independent  of  the  will  of  an  ooserver  to  accept  them, 
but  he  must  note  words,  phrases,  or  acts  and  apply  them  conscious- 
ly in  another  than  their  literal  sense.  Such  definite  acceptance 
(accipere  omen)  • is  paralleled  by  definite  power  of  refusal 
(improbare,  exsecrari,  refutare,  abominari  omen).,5#  At  this 
point  let  us  observe  that  omens  may  be  therefore  pathetic*,  that 
is,  the  interpretations  may  be  affected  by  the  mood  of  the  poet 
or  his  character. 

But  even  though  some  interpretations  may  be  both  pathetic* 
and  fallacious,  I shall  consider  them  as  transitional,  and  shall 
exclude  them  from  the  field  of  the  pathetic  fallacy  proper.  For 
example,  Propertius,  lamenting  the  illness  of  Cynthia: 

1.  ibid.  144 

2.  ibid.  146 

3.  e.  g.  C ic . De  Div . , 1. , 103 

4.  Examples  are  too  numerous  to  be  cited  here  but  will  be  found 
in  the  collection  of  Bulenger  in  Graevius , Thes,  Ant.,  5 (1696) 
365;  441-452 

5.  A.  S.  Pease,  M.  Tulli  Ciceronis  De  Divinatione  Liber  Primus, 

1920,  p.286 


35. 

et  lam  Luna  negat  totiens  descendere  caelo, 
nigraque  funestum  concinit  omen  avis.  1* 

And  Ovid  makes  sad  Phyllis  say  to  Demophoon; 

pronuba  Tisi£hone  thalamis  ululavit  in  illis, 
et  cecinit  maestum  devia  carmen  avis.  ”• 

And  again  Ovid,  in  the  Tristia,  sorrowing: 


dum  loquor  et  flemus,  caelo  nitidissimus  alto 
stella  gravis  nobis,  Lucifer  ortus  erat.  3 4* 


The  owl  was  usually  considered  a bad  omen: 


sedit  in  adverso  nocturnus  culmine  bubo 
funeroqu©  graves  adidit  ore  sonos.  4. 

Miracles,  too,  occur,  though  they  are  some  times  hardly  dis- 
tinguishable from  omens  and  portents  and  are  either  'pathetic1 2, 
fallacious,  or  both.  An  interesting  example  illustrating  at  the 
same  time  mantic,  miracles  and  the  pathetic  fallacy,  in  close 
connection,  may  be  found  in  Tibullus:  at  one  time  the  Sibyls 
prophesied  that  a war  would  come.  Then  a miracle  took  place: 
'trumpets  and  the  clash  of  arms  were  heard  in  heaven,  the  sacred 
groves  rang  with  the  comming  rout..... and  kine  found  tongue  and 
spake  of  the  coming  doom.'  And  with  them  even  the  images  of  the 
gods  sympathized,  for  from  them  'poured  the  warm  tears M 

haec  fore  dixerunt  belli  mala  signa  cometen, 
multus  ut  in  terras  deplueretque  lapis. 


1.  Prop,  II*  28,37  ff. 

2.  Ovid,  Her.  II*  117  ff. 

3.  Ovid,  Tristia,  I.  3,  71  ff. 

4.  Ovid,  IblsT,  221 


/ 


. 


. 


* 


. 


36 


atque  tubas  atque  arma  ferunt  strepitantia  caelo 
audita  et  lucos  praecinuisse  fugam: 
et  simulacra  deum  lacrimas  fudisse  tepentes 
fataque  vocales  praemonuisse  boves. 
ipsum  etiam  Solem  defectum  lumine  vidit 

iungere  pallentes  nubilus  annus  equos.  1 2 3 * 


And  Propertius  advises  Lynceus , pass ion-tossed  for  Cynthia, 
to  cease  from  writing  on  such  serious  themes  as  these: 


nam  rursus  licet  Aetoli  referas  Acheloi 

fluxerat  ut  magno  fractus  amore  liquor, 
atque  etiam  ut  Phrygio  fallax  Maeandria  campo 
err at  et  ipsa  suas  decipit  unda  vias, 
qualis  et  AdTasti  fuerit  vo  calls  Arion, 

tristis  ad  Archemori  funera  victor  equus. 


There  are  some  instances,  too,  that  are  on  the  border  line 
between  interpretation  of  human  observation  and  a miracle,  as 
when,  in  the  Aeneid,  victorious  Aeneas  forms  a procession  of  his 
vanquished  enemies,  the  Rutulians  are  overcome  with  grief,  and 
’behind,  the  war-steed  Aethon,  his  trappings  laid  aside,  goes 
weeping,  and  big  drops  wet  his  face’: 


post  bellator  equus  positis  insignibus  Aethon 

it  lacrimans  guttisque  umectat  grandibus  ora 


1.  II.  5,  71  ff. 

2.  II.  34,  33  ff* 

3.  XI.  89  ff • Cf.  Iliad  XVII.  426  ff . where  the  horses  of 
Achilles  weep. 


. 


. 

• , 

■ 

• 

’ 

. 

• 

'* 

. 

- 

* 

Chapter  VI. 


37. 


One  of  the  most  prominent  features  of  poetic  diction  is  to 
be  observed  in  the  use  of  the  epithet*  And  particularly  in  the 
employing  of  personifying  epithets,  that  is,  in  such  epithets  as 
are  cpmmonly  applicable  only  to  persons,  the  pathetic  fallacy  is 
not  infrequently  to  be  observed:  since  the  poet  often  applies  to 
inanimate  or  brute  objects  or  phenomena  in  nature  epithets  that 
are  peculiarly  descriptive  of  his  own  temporary  moods  or  emotions. 

But  we  must  be  careful  to  recognize  such  personifying  epith- 
ets as  are  not  so  much  descriptive  of  some  temporary  mood  or  emo- 
tion as  of  a clearly  defined  and  permanent  state  of  mind  or  atti- 
tude towards  certain  objects*  Such  epithets,  which  I may  call 
*faded*,  are  almost  invariably  applied  to  particular  objects  at 
all  times,  as  are,  for  example,  the  epithets  usually  applied  to 
the  sea*  We  may  recognize  a *faded*  epithet  when  we  are  aware 
that  the  poet  employs  it  while  he  is  a natural  or  contemplative 
state  of  mind  and  is  clearly  not  influenced  by  any  mood  or  emo- 
tion, as  in  the  case  of  Horace,  who,  regarding  the  sea,  *eer-~ 

1. 

tainly  leaves  the  reader  in  no  doubt  as  to  his  opinion*.  Says 
he: 

non  est  meum,  si  mugiat  Africis 
malus  procellis,  ad  miseras  precas 
decurrere  et  votis  pacisci, 
ne  Cypriae  Tyriaeque  merces 

o 

addant  avaro  divitias  mari  * 

This  aspect  of  the  * greedy*  or  * cruel  * sea  — the  sea 

is  very  commonly  invested  with  life  — as  the  enemy  of  man  is 

1*  Hodnett,  The  Sea  in  Roman  Poetry.  t>.  52 
2*  Odes  III.  2§y  57-gl'  ' 


38. 


prominent  in  almost  every  author,  and  the  feeling  toward  the  sea 
most  often  to  be  inferred  is  a sense  of  this  power  and  cruelty, 
a feeling  of  dread  and  at  the  same  time  of  the  fascination  which 
may  accompany  such  dread.  Figuratively,  the  sea  usually  repre- 
sents misfortune,  and  human  cares  and  trouble  are  often  repre- 
sented as  waves.  To  be  sure,  says  Lucretius,  * the  waves 

2. 

of  the  sea  smile1,  but  man  should  not  trust  them.  After  a 

t 5. 

shipwreck  ' the  face  of  the  sea  laughs  treacherously. 

But  in  the  case  of  poets  who  allude  to  the  sea  with  various 

epithets  expressing  nearly  every  aspect,  it  is  somewhat  difficult 

to  recognize  d 'faded*  epithet  or  determine  a pathetic  fallacy, 

as  when  Attis  addressing  his  companion: 

aliena  quae  petentes  velut  exules  loca  celeri 
sectam  meam  exectitae  duce  mihi  comites 
rapidum  salum  tulistis  truculentaque  pelage 
et  corpus  evirastis  Veneris  nimio  odio, 
hilarate  erae  citatis  erroribus  animum. 

There  may  be  a slight  hint  of  the  sympathetic  fallacy  here: 

'rapidum' (1*16)  may  mean  'restless*  or  'impetuous'  as  reflected 

from  'exules '(1.14. ) , 'celeri '( 1.14. ) and  'citatis  erroribus' 

(1.18.).  The  sea  here  is  'truculenta'  - 'savage*  or  'cruel*, 
and  the  epithet  is  hardly  a 'faded'  one  but  may  express  here 

something  of  the  antipathetic  fallacy:  considering  that  in 

Catullus  the  ' calm  * and 'dazzling'  sea  is  not  without  repre- 

5. 

sentation.  Fear  was,  to  be  sure,  the  pervading  element  in  the 

6. 

Roman  feeling  for  the  sea,  and  although  it  is  difficult  to 
estimate  the  poetry  of  the  early  Republic,  we  find  there  such 


1.  Cf.  Vergil,  Aen.  IV.,  532. 

2.  I.,  100 

3.  ibid.,  II.,  652-561 

4.  Cat.,  LXIII. , 14-18 

5.  Cf.  LXIV.  , 2 69  JLXIV  • , 14;LXIV.,  7;  XXXVI.,  11 

6.  Hodnett,  The  Sea  in  Roman  Poetry,  Master's  thesis,  1918,  p.10 


39 


stereotyped  epithets  as  'minax',  1 avidus 1 , 'infidus',  'subdolus', 

'horridus ' , 1 iramisericors 1 , 'immanis',  etc.,  clearly  indicating 

1. 

the  Roman  conventional  attitude  towards  it. 

On  the  whole,  it  seems  to  me,  we  must  be  guided  not  only 
by  our  knowledge  of  a poet's  style  of  diction  but  also  of  his 
mental  traits  and  personality  if  we  attempt  to  distinguish 
'faded*  epithets:  from  those  expressing  the  pathetic  fallacy. 

Such  'faded*  epithets  as, for  example,  those  applied  to 
the  sea  by  certain  poets  as  indicative  of  their  personal  atti- 
tude towards  it  — who  comprise,  according  to  Miss  Hodnett's 
excellent  study,  all  of  the  pre-Augustan  excepting  Catullus,  and 
the  Augustan  poets  excepting  Virgil  and  Ovid  — I shall  exclude 
from  my  consideration  of  the  pathetic  fallacy.  In  the  case  of 
epithets  applied  to  other  objects  it  is  more  difficult  to  draw 
hard  and  fast  lines  between  'faded*  and  fresh  epithets. 

Another  kind  of  epithet  which  may  be  mistaken  as  an  indi- 
cation of  the  pathetic  fallacy  is  the  transferred  epithet,  that 
is, an  epithet  transferred  from  a person  to  some  object  towards 
which  he  bears  some  relation  in  the  context.  But  very  often 
distinction  of  the  transferred  epithet  from  the  regular  personi- 
fying epithet  is  necessarily  arbitrary.  I shall  therefore  con- 
sider as  transferred  epithets  only  such  as  are  transferred  from 
a person  to  some  object  towards  which  he  bears  a desidedly  per- 
sonal relation  as,  for  example,  his  clothes,  bed,  etc. 


1.  Id. , 


p.  25 


40 


A few  examples : 

Hermione,  sorrowing,  in  a letter  to  Orestes  mentions 
incidentally  her  borrowing 1 bed? 

nox  ubi  me  thalamis  ululantem  et  acerba  gementem 
condidit  in  maesto  procubuique  toro.  1» 

And  Ovid,  in  exile,  describes  his  illness:  he  is  pale, 
emaciated,  sorrowing: 

nec  vires  adimit  Veneris  damnosa  voluptas : 
non  solet  in  maestos  ilia  venire  toros. 

Ovid  attributes  his  forced  flight  even  to  his  ship: 

et  Scythicum  profuga  scindere  puppe  fretum.*"  * 

And,  in  another  place: 

4 

accedam  profugae  sarcina  parva  rati. 

But  in  the  first  book  of  the  Aene id  Vergil  describes 
the  harbor  where  the  f wearied  sons  of  Aeneas  ’ 5#  *wearied 
of  their  lot1,  6#  take  refuge.  ’Here1,  says  Vergil,  Tno  fetters 
imprison  weary  ships1: 

hie  f ess as  non  vincula  navis  7 

ulla  tenent  unco  non  alligat  ancora  morsu.  * 

The  poet  here  reflects  in  the  ships  the  state  of  mind 

1.  Ovid,  Her.  VIII.,  107  ff. 

2 . Ex  PonCcT“l.  , 10 , 33  f f . 

3.  Tr'isrisTV. , 2,  62 

4.  ibid. , I.,  3,  84 

5.  I.,  157 

6.  I.,  177 

7.  I.,  168  ff. 


* 


. 


. 


■ 


‘ . 


•> 


* 


41. 

and  body  of  the  sons  of  Aeneas.  If  the  sons  of  Aeneas  had  them- 
selves, Instead  of  Vergil,  ascribed  their  own  state  of  mind  and 
body  to  their  ships,  this  might  probably  have  been  merely  a 
transferred  epithet.  The  !wearyf  ships  is  obviously  a pathetic 
interpretation  of  the  breaking  and  groaning1  of  the  ships  as 
they  were  anchored  in  the  harbor. 

Sometimes,  too,  the  Roman  poets  employ  a noun  like  'ship1 
or  'land'  not  as  an  object  but  as  a poetic  expression  signify- 
ing persons  who  presumably  occupy  the  land  or  ship,  as  in  the 
following  rhetorical  question: 

quid,  ferus  Andromachae  lecto  cum  surgeret  Hector  ? 
be 11a  Mycenae ae  non  timuere  rates  ? 1* 

Here  fthe  Mycenaean  ships*  obviously  refer  to  the  men  who 
occupied  them.  To  ascribe  fear  and  trembling  to  men  is  not, 
of  course,  fallacious.  Such  instances  are  certainly  to  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  limits  of  the  pathetic  fallacy. 

An  interesting  example  of  a figurative  reference  to  persons 
that  may  easily  be  mistaken  for  the  pathetic  fallacy  I have  found 
in  the  Tristia.  Ovid  describes  his  last  night  in  Rome,  before 
departing  for  Tomi,  his  place  of  exile.  Depicting  the  grief  of 
his  wife  and  household,  'every  corner',  he  says,  'in  the  house 
has  its  share  of  tears ' : 

inque  domo  lacrimas  angulus  omnis  habet. 

Very  probably  Ovid  here  refers  to  persons  who  might  have  been 
sitting  or  standing  in  the  corners  of  the  rooms. 

1.  Prop.  II.,  22,  51  ff# 

2.  I.,  324 


42 


Besides,  one  often  finds  verbs  originally  suggesting  the 
presence  of  emotion  on  the  part  of  the  subject,  but  which  have 
in  the  course  of  time  lost  their  emotional  significance.  For 
example,  'queror',  originally  meaning  'to  lament had  become  to 
mean  merely  to  'coo'  or  'warble' ; 

fons  sacer  in  medio  speluncaque  pumic e ^pendens , 
et  latere  ex  omni  dulce  queruntur  aves. 

This  I think  may  be  explained  as  follows:  every  bird  was  con- 

sidered symbolically,  at  least  by  poets,  as  representing  some 
person  who  had  been  metamorphosed,  after  a tragic  experience, 
and  who  was,  therefore,  forever  doomed  to  utter  emotional  ex- 
pression symbolic  of  his  experience.  Thus,  the  nightingale, 
'forever  lamenting',  it  was  imagined,  'the  death  of  Itys ' , 

‘ ; - ~ ‘ ’ 'l-  * 

had  been,  according  to  one  version,  ASdon,  a Theban  queen,  who, 
jealously  attempting  to  kill  her  brother-in-law  Amphion's  eldest 

son,  by  mistake  killed  her  own  son.Itylus,  and  was  changed  by 

2. 

Zeus  into  a bird.  Hence  the  song  was  imaginatively  construed 
as  a lament  and  was  usually  expressed  by  the  verb  'queror', 
in  even  the  most  realistic  or  prosaic  descriptions,  the  origi- 
nal meaning  of  which,  as  applied  to  birds,  having  faded.  By 
whom  it  was  used  for  the  first  time  in  the  sense  of  'to  warble' 
or  to  'coo'  is  difficult  to  ascertain. 

Another  verb  of  'faded'  meaning  is  'remugire',  'to  bellow 
back',  as  in  this  'lover's  complaint': 

audio  quo  strepitu  ianua,  quo  nemus 
inter  pulchra  s a turn  tela  remugiat 
vent is.  3. 

1.  AmoreS  III.,  1>  3 ff. 

2.  Cf.  Walters,  Classical  Dictionary,  1916,  p.  20 
5.  Horace  III.,  10,  5 ff. 


. 

t'.r 

43 


Perhaps  'faded1,  too,  is  'gemere'  or  'congemere',  to  groan, 
as  when  a tree  was  being  cut  down  by  woodsmen,  in  a simile 
emphasizing  the  destruction  of  Troy: 

volneribus  donee  paulatim  evicta  supremum 
congemuit  traxitque  iugis  avolsa  ruinam. 

This  may  also  be  a curious  transferred  pathetic  fallacy:  Vergil 
perhaps  implies  that  Aeneas  groaned  as  he  described  the  destruction 
of  Troy, or, that  perhaps  Troy  groaned  as  she  tottered,  but  he  trans- 
fers the  ’pathetic'  verb  to  the  simile,  thus  interpreting  the 
creaking  of  a tree  as  it  falls. 

But  Hero,  in  her  letter  to  Leander,  describes  her  drowsy  mood 
and  ascribes  her  sleepiness  also  to  her  lamp; 

namque  sub  aurora,  iam  dormitante  lucerna 
soronia  quo  cerni  tempore  vera  solent, 
stamina  de  digitis  cecidere  sopore  remissis, 
collaque  pulvino  nostra  ferendi  dedi. 

This  is  a premeditated  pathetic  fallacy:  in  the  interpretation  of 
the  flickering  and  sputtering  of  the  lamp  by  the  personifying  epithet 
'dormitante',  Ovid  consciously  accentuates  the  mood  of  Hero.  At 
the  same  time,  from  the  character's  viewpoint.  Hero,  filled  with 
anxiety  for  Leander  and  with  the  terror  of  a dream  she  is  about 
to  relate,  imagines  the  reflection  of  her  mood  in  the  lamp.  En 
passant,  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  sputtering  of  a lamp 
was  considered  a bad  omen, and  is  therefore  here  cleverly  brought 
in  obviously  to  supply  a sympathetic  atmosphere  in  connection  with 
the  dream  which  Hero  is  about  to  relate  and  interpret  as  a bad  omen. 

1.  Vergil,  Aen.  II.  630  ff. 

2.  Ovid,  Her.  XIX.  195  ff. 


. 

: * i. 

, 


' 


„ • 

> 

, 


■ 


. 


, 

, 


44. 


And  now,  to  sum  up  the  main  points  in  the  argument  of  this 
lengthy  hut,  I feel,  necessary  introduction:  I have  attempted 
to  show  that  Dr.  Shairp's  belief,  mentioned  in  the  begining  of 
this  study,  that  the  expression  of  the  pathetic  fallacy  * is  keep- 
ing true  to  a fact  of  human  nature'  has  strong  foundation.  And 
that  this  is  even  more  true  regarding  Latin  poetry  not  only 
because  it  is  natural  for  sone  poets  to  express  the  pathetic 
fallacy  when  under  the  influence  of  some  poignant  mood  or  violent 
emotion,  but  also  because: 

I*  The  time  during  which  there  existed 
a belief  in  animism,  that  is,  a spontaneous  attribution  of  life  to 
Nature,  and  hence  concomitant  human  expression,  could  not  have  been 
so  far  distant,  from  any  period  in  Roman  history.  The  revival, 
therefore,  of  this  belief,  which  I have  termed  Animization,  by 
Roman  poets  may  be  considered  a characteristic  of  Latin  poetry 
that  was  to  some  extent  borrowed  from  the  Alexandrian,  and  which 
paved  the  way  for  the  expression  of  the  pathetic  fallacy. 

II.  The  culture  of  mythology  and  par- 
ticularly the  idea  of  metamorphosis  may  be  construed  as  an  un- 
consdious  groping  of  the  ancient  imagination  to  establish  a link 
between  the  human  and  brutish  or  inanimate  worlds. 

III.  This  li#k  was  finally  realized  to 
some  extent  in  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  ^ • 


45. 

r 

The  body  of  my  evidence  will  afford  a view  of  the  occurence 
of  the  pathetic  fallacy  in  Roman  poetry,  from  Snnius  through  the 
Augustan  Age,  to  determine,  in  so  far  as  the  evidence  of  th6  oc- 
currence of  the  pathetic  fallacy  in  each  author,  the  literary  e- 
poch  in  which  the  author  wrote,  and  his  characteristic  personal 
traits,  allow  (1)  a most  probable  conjecture  of  the  emotional  tem- 
per of  the  different  Roman  po6ts  whose  works  are  extant;  and  (2) 
the  purpose  of  the  use  of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  th.-.t  is,  a differ- 
entiation of  such  fallacies  as  are  stock  forms,  borrowed  probably 
from  the  Alexandrian  poets,  from  those  which  give  the  appearance 
of  originality,  and  (3)  the  nature  of  the  use  of  the  fallacy. 

Rote.  As  I had  not  developed  the  idea  of  the  antipathetic 
fallacy  until  after  I had  completed  my  collection  of  material,  my 
evidence  of  this  fallacy  will  be  necessarily  incomplete. 


...  . — - 


. 


H 


46. 


The  Pre -Ciceronian  Period 
The  Comic  Poets 

Inasmuch  as  the  pathetic  fallacy  is  primarily  a poetic  form, 
we  need  not  be  surprised  to  find  practically  no  evidence  of  it  in 
the  comic  poets,  Plautus  and  Terence,  who  were  termed  poets’  by 
the  ancients  probably  by  virtue  only  of  having  written  in  verse, 
according  to  the  view  of  Horace,  who  asserts  that  poetry  depends 
not  upon  metre  alone,  but  it  is  such  a composition  as  will,  by 
its  diction,  proclaim  itself  poetic,  even  if  the  metre  is  broken 
up  by  a transposition  of  the  words.  Satire  and  comedy,  he  main- 
tains , in  which  people  are  made  to  talk  very  much  as  in  ordinary 
life,  are  not  poetry. 

But  even  in  prose  writing  there  may  sometimes  appear  a poetic 
strain,  if  perhaps  only  for  comic  effect,  there  is,  for  example, 
in  Plautus  and  instance  of  what  may  be  called  an  anticipated  pa- 
thetic fallacy.  In  the  opening  scene  of  the  Miles  Gloriosus 
Pyrgopolinices , a villainous  captain  of  Ephesus,  addressing  his 
henchman  Artotrogus  bids  him  take  care  that  the  lustre  of  his 
shield  is  'more  bright  than  the  rays  of  the  sun  are  wont  to  be 
at  the  time  when  the  sky  is  clear,  so  that  when  the  occasion 
comes.... it  may  dazzle  the  eyesight  of  the  enemy.'  'And',  he 
continues,  'he  wishes  to  console  his  sabre  that  it  may  not  lament 
nor  be  downcast  in  spirits. .. .since  it  longs  right  dreadfully  to 
havoc  of  the  enemy  * s 

1.  Cf.  Horace,  Satires,  I.  4 


■ 

SC 

* 


' 


* 


h a 4^ 


47 


nam  ego  hanc  machaeram  mihi  consular i volo, 
ne  lamentetur  neve  animum  despondeat, 
quia  se  iajn  pridem  feriatam  gestitem, 
quae  misera  gestit  fartem  facere  ex  hostibus  1. 


The  fallacy  becomes  intelligible  if  we  suppose,  as  it  is  plausible, 
that  the  speaker  thus  mirrors  his  own  longing  'to  make  havoc  of  the 
enemy1,  and  is  himself  ' downcast  in  spirits’  because  he  could  not 

do  so. 


In  the  earliest  Roman  poets  it  is  in  most  cases  impossible  to 
obtain  conclusive  evidence  of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  since  the  frag- 
mentary nature  of  the  material  compels  the  investigator  to  withhold 
his  decisions  because  of  a lack  of  context*  What  evidence  there  is 
can  not  be  explained,  therefore,  too  confidently* 

There  is  perhaps,  one  instance  of  the  sympathetic  fallacy  in 
Pacuvius  2 

profectione  laeti  piscium  lasciviam  intuentur, 
nec  tuendi  satietas  capier  potest 

The  sailors,  happy  in  their  departure,  see  their  joy  reflected  in 
the  playfullness  of  the  fishes*. 

Perhaps,  too,  in  Accius  (33)  there  is  a possible  indication, 
in  a negative  way,  of  a sense  of  kinship  between  man  and  nature  in 
•the  pitiless  waves': 

flucti  inmisericordes  iacere  taetra  ad  saxa  adlidere. 

1 * Plautus , Miles  Glorlosus,  5 f f . 

2*  B.  265 


48 


The  Ciceronian  Period 

In  Lucretius,  too,  the  evidence  is  almost  negligible.  There 
are  not  a few  metaphorical  expressions  that  at  first  sight  give 
the  impression  of  the  fallacy  as,  for  example,  in  his  invocation 
to  Venus  at  the  opening  of  Book  I. 


tibi  rident  aequora  ponti 
placatumque  nitet  diffuso  lumine  caelum. 


I believe  there  is  little  likelihood,  however,  that  in  'rident* 
Lucretius  mirrors  anything  other  than  the  conventional  mood  a poet 
is  wont  to  adopt  when  invoking  Venus.  But  in  Book  IV.  he  describes 
the  gamut  of  feelings  and  emotions  which  an  impetuous  lover  ex- 
periences. Deluded  he,  to  imagine  that  his  mistress's  daintily- 
polished  shoes  smile  at  him! 


unguenta  et  jbulchra  in  pedibus  Sicyonia  rident 


2. 


'Of  the  sympathetic  or  sentimental  view  of  nature  there 
seems  to  be  little  trace  in  Lucretius',  finally  observes  one  writer. 
But  there  is  one  sentimental  element  in  Lucretius  that  is,  I believe 


3 


peculiarly  modern.  Ke  introduces  it  immediately  in  his  prooemium: 

nam  simul  ac  species  genitabilis  aura  favoni 
aeriae  primum  volucres  te,  diva,  tuumque 
significant  initum  perculsae  corda  tua  vi. 
inde  ferae  pecudes  persultant  pabula  laeta 
et  rapidos  tranant  amnis  : it a capta  lepore 
te  sequitur  cupide  quo  quamque  inducere  pergis. 


1.  De  Rerum  Nature,  I.  8 ff . Cf.  also  II.  559;  V.  1005;  III.  gg 

2.  II.  1125 

3.  Allen,  The  Treatment  of  Nature  in  the  Poetry  of  the  Republic, 
Madison,  W is.,  1898,  p.  1886. 


r 


r 


« 


■ 


■ 


. 


i 

. 


■ 


* 


49. 

denique  per  maria  ac  montis  fluvisque  rapacis 
frondif  erasque  domos  avium  camposque  virentis 
efficis  ut  cupide  generatim  saecla  propagent 
quae  quoniam  rerum  naturam  sola  gubernas 
nec  sine  te  quicquam  dias  in  luminis  oras 
exoritur  neque  fit  laetum  neque  amabile  laetum.  ^ • 

The  above  sentiment  rests  upon  the  fancy  that  "springtime  is  the 
season  of  romance  in  all  creation;  in  spring  the  trees  and  flowers 
bud,  the  birds  skip  and  sing  and  mate,  and--here  is  the  vital 

t 

point — 

'2 

’In  spring  the  young  man's  fancy  lightly  turns  to  thoughts  of  love. 

■ 

This  pretty  fancy  that  the  nightingale  and  the  rose  feel  in  the 
springtime  the  very  same  impulses  as  the  poet  re-established  a 
Sympathy  between  man  and  nature  and  thus  disclosed  a limitless 
source  of  emotion.  But  when  such  a bond  is  once  established 
through  supposed  fellowship  in  joy  and  suffering  the  aesthetic 
sense  also  finds  room  to  play.  And  in  this  case  man  attributes 

’ C. 

to  nature  not  mere  sensation,  as  in  the  xase  of  animization,  but 
the  one  vital  and  universal  passion. 

But  Lucretius  was  not  the  only  classical  Latin  poet  to  ex- 
press this  conceit  or  'pathetic'  fancy,  notwithstanding  Tenney 
Prank's  assertion  that  'the  suggestion  of  Lucretius  had  to  awaite 
the  spirit  of  mediaevalism'  and  that  'the  rationalistic  Roman 

recognized  the  sentiment  as  f antastic. . . .and  had  little  patience 

3. 

with  this  momentary  outburst  of  Lucretius.'  For  Vergil  later 
expressed  the  same  feeling  just  as  poigantly  in  his  Georgies: 


1.  I.  10-25 

2.  Tenney  Frank,  in  Class.  Jour.,  Vol.  XI.,  May  1916,  p.  488 

3.  ibid.,  p.  489 


9* 


50. 


In  the  spring  'th*  rooks  joyous  with  some  strange  unwonted  delight 
chatter  to  each  other  amid  the  leaves.  Glad  are  they, the  rains 
over,  to  see  once  more  their  little  brood  and  sweet  nests,  .... 
now  their  hearts  conceive  new  impresses,  other  than  they  felt 
when  the  wind  was  chasing  the  clouds ... .Hence  that  chorus  of  the 
birds  in  the  fields,  the  gladness  of  the  cattle,  and  the  exultant 
cry  of  the  rooks.1 2 3  In  spring,  again,  'Heaven  comes  down  in 
fruitful  showers  into  the  lap  of  his  joyous  spouse,  and  his  might, 
with  her  might  commingling,  nurtures  all  growths....  the  herds 

2 

renew  their  loves  ....the  fields  loosen  their  bosoms. .. .the  grasses 

jj 

safely  dare  to  trust  themselves  to  face  new  suns;  the  vine-tendrils 
fear  not  the  rising  of  the  South  or  the  storms  of  the  North,  but 
thrust  forth  their  buds  and  unfold  all  their  leaves.'  2.  This 
sentiment  which  reflects  his  own  love  for  every  living  thing 
Vergil  sums  up  in  three  words — 'amor  omnibus  idem.' 

Lucretius  however,  was  obviously  the  first  Latin  poet  to 
express  this  sentiment  which  later  clearly  had  so  deep  an  influence 
on  Vergil-,  although  their  respective  philosophic  views  of  nature 
were  widely  different,  and  still  later,  on  the  unknown  author  of 
the  Pervigilium  Veneris,  a romantically  colored  poem  of  the  later 
Empire.  Hence  Lucretius  appears  to  me  in  an  unusual  but  brilliant 
light:  his  true  spirit  seems  to  force  itself  out  regardless  of 

his  philosophy.  In  this  light  he  appears  not  so  much  a propounder 


1.  I.  410  ff . 

2.  II.  325  ff. 

3.  III.  244 


51 


1 


of  the  Epicurean  philosophy  as  preeminently  a poet  of  intense 
feeling  and  emotion--a  poet  who,  despite  his  materialistic  philo- 
sophy and  the  conservative  literary  creed  of  his  day,  was  so 
intensely  given  to  expressing  his  mystical  nature  that,  even  in 
the  treatment  of  a subject  defined  only  by  the  intellect,  he 
expressed  the  mystic  and  emotional  elements  which,  in  modern  times 
became  so  prominent  a characteristic  of  the  French  and  English 
poets  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  pat.  etic  fallacy  is  more  frequent  in  Catullus  than  in  any 
other  poet  of  the  Republican  period.  Throughout  the  Attis  and 
the  Pole us  and  Thetis  nature  is  in  sympathy  with  the  mood  of  the 
Suffering  human  being.  The  fallacy  is  usually  artificial, and  is 
clearly  lacking  in  the  spontaneity  that  characterizes  Catullus’s 
shorter  poems.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  this  premeditated 
adaptation  of  nature  was  borrowed  by  Catullus  from  Alexandrian 
models,  although  we  have  not  the  models  to  verify  this  conjecture. 
In  his  longer  poems  the  pathetic  fallacy  is  most  prominent.  The 
sea-shore  and  the  sea  are  made,  for  artistic  effect,  to  enhance 
the  loneliness  of  the  scenes  in  the  laments  of  Ariadne  and  of 
Attis.  The  latter  gazes  in  the  direction  of  his  lost  home  and 
yearhs  for  it  'looking  upon  the  lonely  sea  with  tearful  eyes': 

ibi  maria  vasta  visens  lacrimantia  oculis 
patrian  allocuta  maestast  ita  voce  miseriter. 


1.  LXIII.  48  ff 


•s 


' . 


. 

. 


. 


t ■ 


3 


! 


* 


Htrn 


Ovid  and > t o some  extent,  Catullus  are  characterised  by  the 
premeditated  or  artificial  use  of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  and  spon- 
taneous instances,  though  they  occur,  seem  comparatively  rare. 

Prospertius ' s use  is,  in  the  main, natural  and  spontaneous, 
quite  in  keeping  with  the  general  nature  of  his  poetry.  It  is, 
fur the  ignore  of  such  a character  as  is  peculiarly  harmonious  with 
the  very  modern  romantic  view  of  aesthetics,  a view  which,  I be- 
lieve, maintains  that  the  truly  beautiful  defies  definition  or 

classification  and  is  revealed  only  in  the  light  of  impression 
that  is  necessarily  subjective. 

Further,  to  quote  Professor  Postgat6 : "In  the  employment  of 

sentiment  Propertius  is  modern  and  even  romantic.  The  personal 

feeling  which  is  so  predominant  in  his  poems  is  reflected  upon  in- 
animate objects  and  external  events:  they  are  transfigured,  so  to 

apeak,  in  a human  mirror.  His  fancy  often  assumes  a modern  shape 
when  swayed  by  the  pathetic  fallacy."  (1) 

. 1.  Postgate  furnishes  several  examples  of  the  i:;athetic 

fallacy,  one  of  which  he  explains  as  follows:  "Thus 
in  V.  11,  42  flab6  mea  vestros  erubuisse  foe  os'  (and 
note)  the  fire’s  red  lifirht  appears  to  the  poet  as  a 
blush  of  shame."  . Again, 

he  explains  another  pathetic  fallacy:  "the  Parthian 

arrows  are  gladdened  by  blood  IY.  12,  11,  ' tua  Medae 
laetentur  caed6  sagittae.'"  But  the  fallacy  does  not 
exist,  if  we  quote  the  entire  sentence: 

ilia  ouidem  interea  fama  tabescet  inani , 
haec  tua  ne  virtus  fiat  araara  tibi 
heve  tua  Medae  laetentur  caede  sagittae , 
ferreus  aurato  neu  catasphractus  equo. 

'She  will  pine»T».  for  fear.... lest  the  median  arrows 
rejoice  in  thy  death  or  the  mailed  soldier  on  his 
gilded  steed.’  The  last. part  of  the  sentence  appears 
to  indicate  that  in  ’sag4ttae’  there  is  a case  of 
metonomy':  not  the  arrows,  but  those  who  shoot  them  is 
here  meant.  To  impute  the  emotion  of  joy  to  the  Medes 
is  not,  of  course,  fallacious. 


. 

. 


, 


■ 


. 


52. 

So  too  Ariadne,  abandoned  by  Theseus,  climbs  to  the  hilltop 
and  thence  Tazes  upon  the  lonely  waves  of  the  sea  'D  and  feels 
hfcrself  hopelessly  abandoned,  hemmed  in  by  the  waters,^)  where  \ 
no  mortal  appears  upon  the  empty  seaweed, and  she  stands  by  the 
lonely  sea,  and  while  its  waves  sweep  up  the  beach,  within  her  own  ! 
heart  "great  waves  of  sorrow  roll".^; 

On  the  contrary,  Catullus  calls  upon  the  waves  of  his  lake  to 
rejoice  with  him  upon  his  return  to  Sirmio.  Here  the  poet  wishes 
his  joy  to  be  reflected  in  the  ripples  of  the  waters  on  the  lake 
bordering  on  his  estate,  and  in  the  laughter  of  his  "home": 


Salve,  o venusta  Sirmio,  atque  ero  gaude  : 
gaudete  vosque , o Lydiae  lacus  undae : 
ridete,  quidquid  est  domi  cacchinorum.  »5) 


And  the  stars  are  called  on  as  witnesses  and  perhaps  sympa- 
thizers with  the  loves  of  men  The  obverse  of  this  feeling  is 

brought  out  where  Catullus  contrasts  the  coming  and  going  of  the 
bright  days  (soles)  with  their  short  intermission  of  night,  and 

his  ov/n  brief  season  of  happiness,  to  be  followed  by  perpetual 

( 7 ) 

night . An  interesting  example  of  an  antipathetic  fallacy  is 

the  following:  the  daughter  of  Minos  weeps  in  grief,  and  the 

waves  respond  in  play: 

1.  LXIV . 127  .ff. 

2.  LXIV.  ,184/f.. 

3.  LXIV. , 168  ff  . 

4.  LXIV.,  62-ff. 

5 . XXI . , 1 ff  . 

6.  VII.  7 ff. 

7.  V.  , 4ff. 


ipsius  ante  pedes  fluctus  salis  adludebant. ^ 1 ^ 

And  when  Chiron  brings  flowers  "cheered  with  whose  grateful  odour 
the  house  smiled  in  gladness": 

quo  permulsa  domus  iucundo  risit  odore^) 

But  Ariadne,  abandoned  by  Theseus  and  distracted  with  woe , is 
impatient  with  the  inhumaneness  of  nature:  "why  should  I cry  in 

vain  to  the  senseless  airs--the  airs  that  are  endowed  with  no 
feeling,  and  can  neither  hear  nor  return  the  messages  of  my  voice? 
(3)  "But  how  murderous,"  says  she,  "the  tract  of  sea  which  sep- 
arates my  kin  from  me!"  She  demands  vengeance,  and  Jupiter  nods 
assent:  the  earth  and  stormy  seas  tremble,  and  the  heavens  shake 

the  quivering  stars!  (4) 

It  is  in  the  Peleus  and  Thetis  that  the  largest  proportion 
of  the  description  of  nature  is  found,  and  that  the  traces  of  the 
pathetic  fallacy  are  most  evident. 

But  in  Catullus  the  pathetic  fallacies  are  largely  premedi- 
tat6d--they  seem  to  partake  of  the  artificiality  of  the  other 
portions  of  the  poem.  They  lack  the  spontaneity  that  character- 
izes all  phases  of  Catullus'  shorter  poems,  and  all  references 
to  nature  in  Lucretius,  and  though  we  have  not  Catullus'  Alexan- 
drian models  , we  may  surmise  that  to  them  must  partly  be  laid  the 
use  of  nature  characteristic  of  this  poem.  Had  this  attitude 

1.  LXIY. , 67  ff. 

2.  LXIV.  , 284  ff. 

3.  LXIY.,  164  ff. 

4.  LXIY.,  179  ff. 


54 


toward  nature  been  purely  natural  to  the  Roman  poet,  he  would 
surely  have  shown  more  of  it  in  the  briefer  poems  in  which  his 

own  feelings  are  so  strongly  and  freely  expressed.  But  his  inter- 
ests were  in  man  rather  than  nature,  and  it  seems  to  he  only  un- 
der outside  influence  that  he  cares  to  use  nature  in  any  way  to 
deepen  and  enhance  the  expression  of  feelings. 


- 


* 


55. 


The  Augustan  Age. 

Vergil. 

It  is  almost  trite  to  remark  that  the  noble  arts  flourish 
best  in  an  atmosphere  of  freedom  and  wealth  and  tranquility.  And 
no  literary  epoch  so  clearly  demonstrates  this  truism  as  the  Aumus 
tan  Age  which  may  well  be  extended  over  nearly  sixty  years,  and 
which  forms  a singularly  well-defined  epoch  in  literary  art.  The 
Augustans  ''gave  expression  to  the  weariness  and  longing  for  rest, 
to  the  revival  of  Roman  and  Italian  feeling,  to  the  pride  of  the 
empire,  the  charm  of  ancient  memories  a:id  associations,  the  aspir- 
ations after  a better  life  and  a firmer  faith;  and  all  these  feel- 
ings are  made  subordinate  to  the  personal  glory  of  Augustus  who 
stands  out  as  the  central  and  commanding  figure  in  all  their  re- 
presentations. ,ff  ^ ) 

By  far  the  most  imposing  poetic  figure  of  this  Age  was  Vergil 
who  reached  the  maturity  of  his  powers  in  the  treatment  of  the 
Aeneid , the  greatest  subject  possible  for  his  time.  The  charm 
Vergil  exerted  over  his  countrymen  was  so  intense  because  he  was 
the  reviver  of  the  early  poetry  of  Greece  and  the  first  creator 
of  the  early  romance  of  Italy.  Yet  his  permanent  value  lies  in 
the  fact  that  he  v/as  one  of  the  great  interpreters  of  the  secret 
of  nature  and  the  meaning  of  life. 

The  difference  between  Vergil  and  Homer,  even  where  th6y  de- 
scribe the  same  natural  objects  or  where  the  Latin  poet  borrows 
his  similies  directly  from  the  Greek  is  quite  obvious:  in  Vergil 
gone  is  the  clear,  majestic  calm,  the  classic  serenity  and  perfect 
simplicity  of  Homer.  But  Vergil  takes  the  outward  world  into  his 

1.  Sellar,  Roman  Poets  of  the  Augustan  Age, Vergil,  1883,  p.14 


56. 

heart,  and  colors  it  with  his  own  melancholy,  Which  Saint  Beade 
calls  ,Tdemi  tristesse".  In  Vergil,  as  in  no  other  Roman  poet,  na- 
ture is  really  human--too  human.  She  lends  herself  to  human  joys 
and  sorrows  and,  like  a bright  deep  pool,  reveals  in  her  depths 
images  of  human  moods,  emotions,  passions.  This  sympathy  between 
man  and  nature,  Vergil  felt  and  expressed  more  poignantly  than  any 
other  Roman  poet;  and  in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  things,  we  find 
in  him  an  anticipation  of  modern  times.  "As  compared  with  Lucre- 
tius, Vergil  deals  with  nature  in  a less  sublime,  but  more  human 
way.  Lucretius  demands  the  explanation  of  ilature  and  her  processes 
Vergil  seems  to  enter  into  her  feeling,  to  catch  her  sentiment". : - ) 
This  perception  of  a sympathy  between  the  feelings  and  vicis- 
situdes of  man  and  the  world  that  surrounds  him  appears  nowhere 
so  strongly  as  in  the  Rene  id . and  particularly  throughout  the  fourth 
book  there  is  maintained  a fine  sympathy  between  the  aspects  of 
the  outer  world  and  the  passions  which  agitate  the  human  actors. 

"In  the  Georgies  and  Aen6id , as  well  as  in  the  Rc loguea , 

Vergil  shows  a susceptibility  to  the  beauty  and  power  of  Nature. 

But  Nature  presents  different  aspects  and  awakens  a different 
class  of  feelings  in  these  poems.  In  the  Eclogue s he  shows  a 
great  openness  and  receptivity  of  mind,  through  which  all  the  sof- 
ter and  more  delicate  influences  of  the  outer  world  enter  into 

and  become  part  of  his  being In  the  Georgies , the  sense  of 

the  relation  of  Nature  to  human  energy  imparts  greater  nobleness 
to  the  conception.  She  appears  there,  not  only  in  her  majesty  and 
beauty  but  as  endowed  with  a soul  and  will.  She  stands  to  man  at 
first  in  the  relation  of  an  antagonist:  hut,  by  compliance  with 
her  conditions,  he  subdues  her  to  his  will  and  finds  in  her  at  Iasi 
1.  Shs^rp,  p.  167 


, - 


, 

. 


, 


. 


' • 


* 


. 


. 

, 

. 

. 

„ ' - i 


■ 


V 1 


X 


■ 


• - 


. 


. 


- 


’ 

■ 

‘ 

N 


. 


. 1 ■ ■« 


* 

. 


a just  and  beneficient  helpmate • "( 1 ) 


57. 


One  of  the  most  prominent  characteristics  in  the  Ce orgies 

and  Eclogues  is  Animization  which  I defined  and  illustrated  in 

* 

the  introduction  to  this  study.  The  force,  too,  of  many  of  the 
epithets  applied  to  material  objects,  such  as"ignava",  "laeta  et 
f ortia" , "maligni " , ninfelix",  etc.  consists  in  the  suggestion 
of  a kind  of  personal  life  underlying  and  animating  the  silent 
processes  of  nature. 

In  the  Eclogues  llature  seems  actually  to  live  and  speak.  She 
mourns  for  the  clear  Caesar,  as  in  Creek  poetry  she  mourned  for 
the  dead  Eaphnis.  The  very  pines,  springs  and  orchards  call  for 
the  absent  Tityrus: 


inirabar , quid  maesta  deos,  Amarylli , vocares 
cui  pendere  sua  patereris  in  arbore  poma 
Tityrus  hinc  aberat,  ipsaete,  Tityre , pinus, 
ipsi  te  forites,  ipsa  haec  arbusta  vocabant.  ' ^ ' 

All  llature  now  mourns  at  the  death,  no?/  rejoices  at  the  apotheosis, 
of  Daphnis.  (3)  And  now  she  smiles,  but  if  fair  Alexis  should  de- 
part you  will  see  the  very  rivers  dry: 


omnia  nunc  rident:  at  si  formosus  Alexis, 
montibus  his  abeat,  videas  et  flumina  sicca. (4) 


When  Phyllis  is  absent  the  country  is  parched,  the  grass  is  athirst 


dying;  but  at  the  coming  of  Phyllis  the  v/oods  will  be  green  and 
Jupiter  v/ill  descend  in  "joyful  rain": 


aret  ager,  vitis  marie ns  sit it  aeris  herba, 

Liber  panipineas  invidit  collibus  umbras: 
Pnylliois  adventu  nostrae  nemus  omne  virebit, 

1.  Sellar,  p.  164 

2.  36  ff. 

3.  Y.  u.  18 

4.  ViTI . , 55-56 


I 58. 

Juppiter  et  laeto  descandet  plurimus  Imbri  (1) 

When  Daphnis  gases  up  at  the  heavens,  Caesar’s  star  makes  the 
fields  rejoice  in  their  fruitage,  and  the  grapes  on  the  hills  find 
their  color: 

ffi  a phni , quid  anti' quo  s signorum  suspicis  art  us  ? 

; ecce  Dionaei  processit  Caesaris  astrum, 

a strum,  quo  segetes  gauderent  frugibus  et  quo 
duceret  apricis  in  collibus  uva  colorem.  (2) 

By  his  pleas  Moeris  puts  off  the  longing  of  Lycidas:  the  whole 
sea-plain  lies  still  and  silent,  and  every  breath  of  the  murmur- 
ing breeze  is  dead: 

causando  nostros  in  longum  due is  amores 

et  nunc  ornne  tibi  stratum  silet  aequor,  et  omnes, 

aspic e,  ventosi  eeciderunt  murmur is  aurae.  (3) 

In  the  tenth  Eclogue,  Ver-il  shows  such  deep  sympathy  for  Callus 

that  all  Ilature  grieves.  ■ 1 But  it  is  when  the  black  south  wind 

rises,  "saddening  the  sky  with  chilly  rain"  (5)  that  v/e  see  the 

natural  melancholy  of  Vergil.  And  when  a plague  strikes  the  earth, 

"sadly  goes  the  plowman  and  unyokes  the  steer  sorrowing  for  his 

brother's  death".  (6) 

One  of  the  most  elaborate  instances  of  the  pathetic  fallacy 
(probably  of  Alexandrian  origin):  Orpheus  rages  for  the  loss  of 
his  bride  Bury dice.  She  is  hastening  headlong  along  the  river, 
and  a monstrous  serpent  is  awaiting  her  near  by  while  all  nature 
weeps! 

at  chorus  aequalis  Dryadum  clamor e supremos 

1.  VII.,  57-60 

2.  IX.  46-49 

3.  X.,  56-59 

4.  V.  p.  7 

' 5.  Ceorgids,  III.  278  6.  III.,  518. 


• • 


. 


- * 1 r»-  1 


or . 


59. 

implerunt  montis;  flerunt  Rhodopeiae  arces 
altaque  Pangaea  et  Rhesi  Mavortia  tellus 
atque  Oetae  atque  Hebrus  6t  Actias  Orithyia 

But  Orpheus  sang  only  of  Eurydice,  as  he  sat  on  the  lonely  shore, 

alone,  at  the  corning  and  the  going  of  the  day: 


ipse  dava  solans  aegrum  testudine  amorem 
te,  dulcis  coniunx,  te  solo  in  litore  secum 
te  venient6  die,  te  decedente  canebat,  (i ) 


And  when  Orpheus,  poor  wretch,  regains  his  love  only  to  lose  her 
again,  for  seven  whole  months  by  lonely  Strymon's  wave  he  wept 
and  unfolded  his  tale,  charming  the  tigers  and  making  the  oaks 
attend  his  strain:  even  as  th6  mourning  nightingale,  bewailing 
the  loss  of  her  brood,  weeps  all  night  long,  filling  the  region 
with  sad  laments. 


qualis  populea  maereus  philomela  sub  umbra 
amissos  queritur  fetus,  quos  durus  aratcr 
observ&ns . nido  implumis  detraxit;  at  ilia 
ole.t  noctsm,  ranoqu6  sedens  miserabile  carmen 
integrat,  et  maestis  late  loca  quest ibus  implet.  (3) 

Especially  at  the  tim.6  of  the  composition  of  the  Aeneid , the  spi- 
rit of  Stoic  pantheism  is  closely  allied  to  Vergil's  sense  of  mys- 
ticism and  "sympathy  for  nature."  Wordsworth,  of  the  modern 
poets,  has  well  expressed  that  spirit. 


a sense  sublime 

Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  sun 
And  the  sound  ocean  and  the  living  air, 

And  th6  blue  sky  and  in  the  mind  of  man.  (3) 


And  this  not6  Vergil  clearly  sounds  in  his  sixth  book: 


1.  IV. , 460-466 

2.  IV.,  511-515 

3. 


60 


spiritus  in  bus  alit,  totamque  inf us a per  artus 
mev*3  agitcat  molem  (1) 

And  in  Vergil  this  is  not  a mere  studied  philosophy  but  a reflec- 
tion of  the  inner  spirit  of  the  poet  himself  as  well  as  of  his 
personal  philosophy.  Tenney  Frank  is  not  of  course  correct  in 
saying, regarding  Vergil,  that  "stoicism  could  never  become  a per- 
sonal religion,  a gripping  human  emotion".  por  j,n  perhaps  no 

other  Latin  work^5^  of  the  Republic  or  Empire,  as  in  the  ^erieid 
does  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  <rt/|An«Of  so  deeply  and  so  consistently 
characterize  the  life  of  nature.  Indeed,  nature  is  the  kind  friend 
of  man;  she  shares  his  loves,  his  fears.  Lucretius  desired  to 
wrest  her  secret  from  her,  but  Vergil  actually  became  her  friend 
and  confidant.  There  is  moreover,  a beneficent  purpose  in  the 
world,  Vergil  suggested,  and  the  force  which  moves  Nature  is  akin 
to  ourselves.  And  not  only  Nature,  but  even  the  supernatural  is 
closely  allied  with  human  feeling.  Hence  the  fallacy  Vergil  em- 
ploys is  usually  sympathetic,  but  sometimes  antipathetic. 

Thus,  the  ships  of  the  weary  sons  of  Aeneas  are  weary , too,(4) 
and  the  Argives  move  to  Tenedos  amid  the  friendly  silence  of  the 
peaceful  ; o on , ' : 1 As  Lido,  overcome  with  sorrow,  prays  for  death, 
the  lonely  owl  with  ill-boding  son  oft  complains,  drawing  out  its 
lingering  notes  into  a wai 1 . ( ° ) Tottering  Troy  is  like  a tree 
groaning  as  it  crashes  to  the  ground.  ( ) Achilles  hurls  the  Tro- 

1.  Aen.  VI.,  126  pp. 

2.  Frank,  Fortunatus  et  1116,  in  Class.  Jour.  XI.,  1916,  p,  486 

3.  This  assertion  covers  only  the  periods  extending  through 
the  Augustan  Age, 

4.  I.,  157. _ / 

5 . ll . , 255 . 

6.  IV. , 462 • 

7.  II. , 631  . 


61 


jans  into  a panic,  the  choked  rivers  pro an  and  Xanthus  cannot 

find  his  way  or  roll  out  to  sea.^^  as  for  Qallus  and  Daphnis  in 

the  Sclogues , so  in  the  neneid , nature  weeps  for  the  fallen  Umbro: 

sed  non  Dardaniae  rnedicari  cuspidis  ictum 
evaluit  neque  eum  iuvere  in  volnere  cautus 
somniferi  et  liarsis  quaesitae  montibus  heruae 
1 6 nemus  Angitiae,  vitrea  te  Fucinus  unda, 
te  liquidi  flevere  lacus.  (2) 

'Alien  Turnus  kills  Bitias  in  battle  the  earth  groans: 


conlapsa  ruunt  immania  membra, 

dat  tellus  germitum  et  olipeum  super  intonat  ingens'  3) 

She  groans , too,  when  Aeneas  and  lEurnus  clash.' And  when  blood- 
stained liars  gives  rein  to  his  frenzied  steeds,  utmost  Thrace 
moans  with  the  beat  of  their  hoofs. As  the  grieving  Rutulians 
form  the  procession  of  victorious  Aeneas,  an  old  war  horse  weeps 
as  he  follows  behind  them. ( 6 ) Llezentius,  too,  filled  with  grief, 
addresses  his  grieving  steed*  ( ) 

llature  often  reflects  human  dread.  Thus,  as  Hecate  comes  to 

open  the  way,  Aeneas  is  frightened,  the  ground  rumbles  and  wooded 
( 8 ) 

ridges  quiver . And  when,  from  the  pinnacle,  the  goddess  sang 

the  shepherd’s  signal,  straining  her  hellish  voice  to  the  horn, 
the  groves  tremble  and  the  woods  echo.  The  mere  of  Diana  hears  it 
afar  off,  as  does  the  river  liar  and  the  Ye  line  founts. 

1.  Y. , 806. 

2.  VII.  756. 

3.  IX.,  708* 

4.  XII.,  713* 

5.  XII.,  335  {ff. 

6.  XI. , 89  f±\ 

7 . X.  , 860  f f 
8.  VI.  225  ff  ^ 


The  trem- 


' 


62 


bling  mothers  hear  it  and  press  their  children  to  their  breasts.  ^ 

Nature  quakes  with  terror  at  the  exploits  of  Hercules,  when, 
mad  with  rage,  he  shakes  to  pieces  a rock  of  flint: 

( 2 ) 

dissultant  r.ipae  ref luit^ne  exterritus  anunis 

And  v/hen  the  Salii  extol  the  deeds  of  Hercules  in  song,  they  sing: 
’’Before  th6e  the  Stygian  lakes  trei  bled.  ) As  Aeneas  rushes 
forth  with  spear  in  hand,  the  startled  earth  trembles , and  a cold 
shudder  runs  through  the  Ansonians . ( 4 ) ’..hen  Aeneas  sets  sail 
from  Carthage  overhead  loons  a black  cloud:  the  wave  shudders  dark 
ling : 

olli  caeruleus  supra  caput  adstitit  imber,  , r , 

noctem  hiememque  ferens,  et  inhorruit  unda  tenebris 

Victorious  Pallas  gases  down  upon  the  revelling  flames,  in  which 
his  own  joy  is  reflected: 

( A \ 

ille  sedens  victor  flamrnas  despectat  ovaritis 

Quite  frequently  a fallacy  may  be  either  sympathetic  or  anti- 
pathetic, depending  upon  the  point*  of  view  assumed.  Thus,  Poly- 
dorus’  shade,  overcome  with  grief  and  pain,  bids  Aeneas  flee  from 
the  cruel  land,  the  greedy  shore  of  Thrace.^  ' ‘ Of  evil  intention 
and  hostile  character  are  the  approaches  and  woods  where  Turnus 
lies  in  ambush: 

l.VII.,  512  ff. 

VIII.,  240 

3 . VIII . , t-yo 

4.  XI 445 

5.  V.,  11. 

6.  X.  409 

?.  V.  p.  6 


G3. 

Sat  ourvo  anfractu  valloa,  aooomoda  fraud!  (522) 
armorumque  dolis,  quam  densis  frondibus  at  run 
urget  utrimque  latus  tenuis  quo  ser.ita  ducit 
angustaeque  ferunt  fauces  aditusque  malign!  (525) 
hanc  super  in  sp6oulis  sumr.  oque  in  vert  ice  rnontis 
planities  ignota  iacet  tutique  receptus, 
sen  dextra  laev&que  velis  occurrere  pugnae , 
sive  instare  iugis  et  grandia  volvere  saxa  ( 53C) 
hue  invenis  nota  fertur  regione  viarun 
arripuitque  locum  et  silvis  iin  sedit  iniquia. ( 1 ) 

Thus  "malign!"  (525 ) reflects  the  evil  intention,  and  is  sympathetic 
with  the  feeling,  of  Turnus  towards  Aeneas,  and"iniquis"  (532) 
reflects  Turnus’  hostility.  On  the  other  hand,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  Aeneas,  whose  mind  is  greatly  upset,  all  the  surroundings 
seems  suspicious—  antipathetic .( ) And  when,  later,  Turnus  enga- 
ges in  combat  with  Aeneas,  alas,  his  treacherous  sword  snaps.  'J 
And,  as  he  dies,  he  smites  the  hostile  earth  with  bloodstained 
mouth. ^ 1 ^ "I  trust  Aeneas  to  the  treacherous  breezes?"  (5) 
exclaims  Palinurus. 

When  Aeneas  in  Thrace  plucks  at  the  roots  of  shrubbery  he 
struggles  against  resisting  sands,(°)  and  later  he  greedily  plucks 
and  breaks  off  a reluctant — so  he  imagined— golden  bough. ^ And 
Juno,  when  Latinus  was  bidden  to  proclaim  war  on  the  sons  of  Ae- 
neas, with  her  own  hand  breaks  in  the  delaying  doors.  (8.) 

Beroe  laments  that  the  Trojans  must  chase  a fleeing  Italy, 
and  later,  Aeneas,  invokes  Phoebus,  exclaiming:  "now  at  last  we 
grasp  the  shores  of  fleeing  Italy  I"  d ‘ When  Aeneas  sets  sail 
on  the  Tiber:  the  waves  and  woods  look  on  in  wonder: 

1.  XI.,  522-551 

2.  H.R.Fairclough,  in  the  Loelr,  Glass.  Lib.  edition,  1908, 
translates  "iniquis"  by"perilous"  and  adds:  "i.e.  involv- 
ing peril  for  Aeneas." 


64 


labitur  uncta  vadis  abies;  mirantur  et  undae , 

miratur  nomus  insuetum  fulgent ia  longe 

scuta  virum  fluvio  pictasque  iuvare  casinas.  (1) 


Again,  Nature  acta  as  a prophetess,  as  when,  for  example,  at 
the  marriage  of  Dido,  and  Aeneas,  she  prophesies  the  impending  ca- 
tastrophe : 


iAterea  magno  misceri  murmure  caelum 
incipit;  insequitur  commixta  grandine  nimbus, 
et  Tyrii  comites  passim  et  froiana  inventus 
Dardaniusque  nepos  Veneris  diversa  per  agros 
tecta  metu  petiere;  ruunt  de  montibus  amnes. 

Speluneam  Dido  dux  et  Or oi anus  eandem 
deveniunt,  prima  et  Tellus  et  pronuba  luno 
dant  Sig^um ; fulsere  ignes  et  conscius  aether 
connubiis,  summoque  ulularunt  vertice  Nymphae , 
ille  dies  primus  leti  prir usque  malorum 
causa  fuit  neque  enim  specie  famave  movetur 
neciam  furtivum  Dido  meditatur  amorem; 
coniugium  vocat ; hoc  jiraetexit  nomine  eulpam.(2) 

Yet  Nature  does  not  always  sympathise;  she  sometimes  follows 
her  own  straight  course:  all  is  peace  and  quiet,  but  not  so  Dido: 


she  is  sleepless  and  heaves  with  a mighty  tide  of  passion.(3) 

And  Nature,  like  man,  responds  to  divinity:  When  Zeus  speaks,  the 
gods  grow  silent,  heaven  and  the  zephyrs  are  hushed,  and  earth 
trembles  from  her  base. (4) 

In  the  Lydia,  a poem  sometimes  attributed  to  Vergil,  the 
poet  envies  th6 .fields  and  meadows  because  his  mistress  Lydia  plays 
upon  them.  This  is  a sympathetic  fallacy  that  mefges  into  a some- 
what opposite  feeling.  With  her  whom  the  poet  loves  Nature,  too, 
will  fall  in  love:  the  woods,  meadows,  springs  will  all  rejoice: 

•audebunt  silvae,  gaudebunt  mollia  prata, 
et  gelidi  fontes,  aviumque  silent ia  fient 

1.  VIII.  91  ff. 

2.  V.  p.  10 

3.  'IV.,  160-172 

4.  X. , 100  ff. 


jfl 


65. 


tardabunt  rivi  labentes  (sistite  lyr phae 
dum  me a inoundas  exponat  our a guerelas. 


^hus  the  poet  sings,  while  his  "dying  limbs  are  wasting  with  grief, 
steeped  in  the  chill  of  deathf^^  because  his  mistress  is  absent: 
"0  moon,  thou  knowest  what  rrief  is:  pity  one  who  grieves^'.... 
Unhappy  I,  who  v/as  not  born  in  those  days  when  Nature  was  kindj^'1 2 3 4^ 


1.  16-20 

2.  22-24 

3.  42 

4.  76 


3 


G6  • 

Horace  and  Tibullus 

We  are  not  surprised  not  to  find  the  slightest  trace  of  the 
pathetic  fallacy  in  Horace.  As  Professor  Harrington  points  out, 
Horace  was  'the  most  careftllly  polished,  the  most  laboriously 
concise,  the  most  artfully  naive  of  the  Roman  poets,  who  taught 
Rome  to  appreciate  Greek  models  of  lyric  verse  in  abounding 
variety. ' ^ • And,  to  be  sure,  he  was  a poet  not  only  of  good 

humor  but  of  good  sense,  and  was  a good  example  of  the  sophisti- 
cated Roman.  Surely,  he  believed,  between  Nature  and  man  lay  a 

* 

deep  gul£.  As  a believer  in  the  Epicurean  philosophy,  what  else 
was  Nature  but  a concourse  of  atoms  or  elements  that  must  be 
understood  and  mastered?  Yet  he  was  a good  lover  of  the  country-- 
as  he  was  also  of  wine — and  particularly  of  his  own  Sabine  farm 
which  he  immortalized  in  song. 

"More  minute  analysis  of  his  preferences  in  describing  nature 
phenomena  shows  unusual  interest  in  the  winds  and  the  sea,  less 
appreciation  of  day  and  night.  Fire,  the  stars,  rain,  and  the 
seasons  have  impressed  him  less  than  we  should  have  expected. 11  2. 
But  of  the  pathetic  fallacy  there  is  not  unnaturally  no  trace. 

A search  to  discover  what  Tibullus  saw,  what  he  loved  to  see, 

. 

and  what  it  meant  to  him,  is,  however,  somewhat  disappointing, 
particularly  since  it  would  appear  that  as  one  of  the  elegiac 

t 

poets,  who  were  on  the  whole  rather  introspective  as  well  as  the 
poets  of  their  own  moods,  one  would  on  a priori  grounds  expect 
him  to  exhibit  a considerable  amount  of  description  of  nature, 
some  of  it  tinged,  perhaps,  with  his  own  moods  and  feelings. 

1.  K.  F.  Harrington,  Horace  as  a Nature  Poet,  F.  A.P.A.  (1904) 

vol.  35,  p. 6 

2.  ibid. 


. 


. 


. 


- 


■v. 


. 


■ 


• - * .... 

. 


67  . 


‘‘The  epithets  he  employs  are  the  faded  conventional  ones: 

‘soft  garlands’,  ’yellow  grain’,  'snow-v/hite  sheep’,  'cruel  wild 
beasts',  ’caerulean  waves',  'pitiless  winds'*  Although  a few 
passages  betray  some  love  of  nature's  beauty,  even  these  are  rather 
monotonous  and  empty  of  real  feeling.” 

Says  Professor  H.  V.  Canter;  "Tibullus  is  so  thoroughly  Roman 
that  his  writings  are  free  from  the  chief  characteristics  of  Alex-- 
anderian  poetry:  emotion,  mythology,  metonomy,  excessive  metaphor. ”2 , 
Perhaps,  too,  the  fact  that  he  is  free  from  the  pathetic  fallacy 
is  a further  indication  of  the  typical  Roman  character;  but  if  such 
is  the  case,  most  of  the  great  Latin  poets  covered  in  this  thesis 
were, in  the  main,  obviously  not  typically  Roman. 

1.  K.  P.  Harrington,  Tibullus  as  a Poet  of  Nature,  PAPA  (1900) 
Vol*31 , p.35 

2.  In  lecture,  University  Of  Illinois,  Dec. 2, 1921. 


. 


• 

. 

• * 

* 

-1 

• 

60. 


Propertius 

None  of  the  elegiac  poets  has  been  so  varyingly  estimated  as 
Propertius*  But,  of  late,  scholars  and  critics  have  been  more  or 
less  unanimous  in  asserting  his  greatness*  Propertius's  poems 
show  lofty  imagination,  fiery  eagerness,  nervous  vigor*  He  is 
feverishly  self-conscious,  displays  poetic  daring  and  irregular 
brilliance,  although  he  violates,  at  times,  good  taste,  good  sense, 
and  sane  proportion. 

His  personality  is  clearly  revealed  by  his  poetic  style  and 
diction.  He  displays  a habitual  melancholy,  and  was  of  a sickly, 
nervous  disposition — a restless,  tormented  soul.  His  make-up  was 
indeed  strange  and  solitary:  he  expressed  a morbid  self-conscious- 
ness, a longing  for  sympathy,  a feeble  will,  a foreboding  gloom, 
a deficiency  in  self  control  and  self-restraint.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  was  amiable,  and  as  his  chief  merits,  possessed  a capacity 
for  gentleness  and  tenderness;  his  most  serious  defects  were  ir- 
resolution and  inconstancy.  Postgate  tells  us  that  his  personal 
traits  are  clearly  revealed  by  an  examination  of  his  language. 

The  redundant  and  unusual  use  of  personal  pronouns  denotes  his 
self-consciousness.  The  excessive  use  of  such  words  as  tarn,  tantus , 
tot,  totiens , etc.,  involve  a reference  to  personal  knowledge  and 
a feeling  for  others.  The  frequent  use  of  such  adjectives  as 
ignotus , extremus , insolitus , etc.,  show  a repulsion  of  mind  that 
recoils  from  the  strange  and  the  unknown.  A melancholy  and  almost 
tearful  disposition  is  shown  by  the  frequency  in  which  such  words 
as  lacrimae , tris bis  and  fie re  occur.  Allusions  to  death  and  the 
grave  are  apparent:  bus  turn,  fata,  cinis , f avilia , f unus , mane  s , 


1.  • Postgate,  Introduction  to  Propertius  , 1885 f pp-38-44 


. 


' 
t* 

, 

■ . . 

■ 

, 

, 


69. 


mors,  pulvis , ossa,  rogus , torus , sepulcrum.  His  weakness  of  will 
is  seen  in  his  free  use  of  potentials  and  the  paraphrases  of  syntax 
and  thought.  In  general,  Propertius  prefers  the  potential  to  the 
actual:  the  aim,  desire,  etc*,  impressed  him  far  more  than  the  com- 
pleted result.  His  very  free  use  of  the  pluperfect  and  other  com- 
pleted tenses,  as  well  as  the  periphrastic  and  future,  seems  to 
show  that  he  shrank  from  contemplating  reality  face  to  face:  he 
relegated  it  so  far  as  he  could  into  the  buried  padt  or  formless 
future*  And  in  his  use  of  the  pathetic  fallacy  we  may  further 
read  his  character:  his  constant  grief  of,  his  terror  and  almost 
tearful  disposition  he  reflects  in  inanimate  objects  and  objects 
of  nature* 

The  most  elaborate  pathetic  fallacy  is  a paraclausithyron, 
a lament  to  the  door  of  his  indifferent  mistress.  The  poet  lapses 
now  into  the  antipathetic,  now  into  the  sympathetic  fallacy: 
the  door  is  'cruel',  ' pitiless',  'unrelenting';  the  portals  are 
'grim',  and  'mute';  the  threshold  is  'chill '#  But  for  him,  the 
midnight,  the  stars  and  the  chill  breeze  grieve  as  they  behold  him 
prostrate : 

Janua  vel  domina  penitus  crude Jlior  ipsa, 

quid  mihi  iam  duris,  clausa  taces  foribus? 
cur  numquam  reserata  meos  admitti&  amores, 
nescia  furtivas  reddere  mota  preces? 
nullane  finis  erit  nostro  concessa  dolori, 

turpis  et  in  tepido  limine  somnus  erit? 

1.  Cf.  H.  V.  Canter,  The  Paraclausithyron  as  a Literary  Theme, 
in  Am. Jour.  Phil.,  Vol,  41,  part  4,  19^0,  p.555.  This"  is  a 
more  or  less  conventional  attitude  of  irate  lovers. 


* 


70. 


me  mediae  noctes,  me  sidera  prona  iacentem, 
firgidaque  Eoo  me  do let  aura  gelu: 
tu  sola  humanos  numquam  miserata  dolores 

respondes  tacit is  mutua  cardinibus,  1 


And  he  exhorts  Lygdamus  to  describe  his  mistress  Cynthia’s 
grief  which,  he  hopes,  should  have  been  caused  by  his  absence* 

So  anxious  is  he  to  satisfy  his  curiosity  that  he  imputes  the  emo- 
tion to  her  dark-hued  robe: 


ac  maestam  teheris  vestem  pendere  lacertis, 
scriniaque  ad  lecti  clausa  iacere  pedes? 
tristis  erat  domus,  et  tristes  sua  pensa  ministrae 
carpehant 


And  Calliope,  in  a dream,  advises  him  not  to  concern  himself  with 
the  poetic  glorification  of  military  achievements,  such  as,  for 
example,  the  victory  of  Caesar  over  Ariovistus,  ’when  the  wild 
Rhine,  steeped  with  the  Swabian's  blood  bears  mangled  bodies  down 
its  sorrowing  waves’: 


barbarus  aut  Suevo  perfusus  sanguine  Rhenus 
saucia  maerenti  corpora  vectet  aqua.3* 


Later  Fropertus  strives  to  free  himself  from  his  passion  for 
Cynthia:  ’Farewell  to  the  thresholds  still  weeping  with  my  plaint*: 

4 

limina  iam  nostris  valeant  laerimantia  verbis  * 


Ovid,  too,  expresses  himself  in  like  manner,  but  he  avoids  the 
fallacy:  'See  how  the  door  has  been  made  wet  with  my  tears': 


uda  sit  ut  lacrimis  ianua  facta  meis 

1.  I.  16,  17-26 

2.  III.  6,  13-17 

3.  III.  3,  45 

4.  III.  29,  9 

5.  Am.  I.  6,  18 


5 


- 

- 


' 

t.  ;.i  .-juts 

. 


. 

' 

« 


. 


■ 


■ - 


' 


* 


71 


And  Properlus  represents  Arethusa,  pining  for  her  absent 
soldier-husband,  as  reflecting  her  plaint  in  the  whine  of  her 
puppy  and  in  the  hoot  of  the  night  owl: 


Craugidos  et  catulae  vox  est  mihi  grata  querentis 
ilia  tui  partem  vindicat  una  toro. 


and: 


£ 'W 

sive  in  finitimo  gmuit  s tarns  moctua  tigno, 
seu  voluit  tangi  parca  lucerna  mero 


In  one  of  his  aetiological  poems,  recalling  how  Aeneas  bore 
his  trembling  father  on  his  shoulders  through  burning  Troy,  the 
poet  reflects  in  the  flames  Anchises's  fear,  as  well  as,  perhaps, 
the  human  awe  for  so  worthy  a deed:  the  flames  fear  to  burn  the 
hero*s  shoulders: 


<£um  pater  in  nati  trepidus  cervice  pependit . 
et  verita  est  umeros  urere  flamma  pios  2. 


And  in  a sudden  apostrophe  to  Cleopatra,  he  exclaims:  *yet  didst 
thou  fly,  0 queen,  to  the  wandering  streams  of  timorous  Nile’: 

fugisti  tamen  in  timidi  vaga  flumina  Nili 

Here,  the  fear  and  flight  of  Cleopatra  and  her  fleet  is  reflected 
in  the  swift-flowing  Nile, 


1.  IV.  3,  55-56  and  59-60 

2.  IV.  1,  45-44 

3.  III.  11,51 


.. 


> ' 


, 

. 

: 


■ 


r 


■ 


♦ 


72. 


Propertius  poignantly  expresses  his  unwillingness  to  travel 
by  sea  by  imputing  his  own  state  of  mind  to  tne  sea  itself: 


a pereat,  quicumque  rates  et  vela  paravit 
perimus  et  invito  gurgite  fecit  iter. 


And,  in  an  attempt  to  treat  a theme  like  the  one  used  by  Ovid  in 
the  Fasti , he  begins  to  feel  a lack  of  confidence.  His  lyre,  un- 
accustomed to  such  strains,  seems  unwilling: 


accersis  lacrimas  cantans;  aversus  Apollo: 
pose is  ab  invita  verba  pigenda  lyra*  2. 


His  dread  and  hatred  for  Acanthis,  Cynthia !s  keeper,  is  reflected, 
at  the  old  woman's  death  resulting  from  a chill,  in  the  shivering 
of  the  broken  shed  wherein  she  lay: 


vidi  ego  rugoso  tussim  concrescere  collo, 

sputaque  per  dentes  ire  sruenta  cavos, 
atque  animam  in  tegetes  putrem  exspirare  paternas : 
horruit  algenti  pergula  curt a foco.  *• 


Propertius  is  disturbed  by  the  heartlessness  of  Cynthia.  Ee  recalls 
how  evercome  with  grief  was  Calypso  after  the  departure  of  Odysseus: 
she  wept  to  the  lonely  waste  of  the  waves  (sympathetic ) , and  moan- 
ing with  locks  unkempt,  she  uttered  namy  a plaint  to  the  cruel, the 
unjust  sea  ( antipathetic): 


at  non  sic  ithaci  digressu  mot a calypso 
desertis  olim  f leverat  aequoribus 
multos  ilia  dies  incomptis  maesta  capilli 
sederat,  iniusto  multa  locuta  salo. 

1.  I.  17,  13-14 

2.  IV.  1,  73-74 

3.  IV.  5,  66-70 

4.  I.  15,  9-12 


. 


. . 


- 

. 


73 


Propertius,  in  a drunken  stupor,  approaching  his  sleeping 
Cynthia  is  impatient  with  the  'officious*  moon  playing  upon  her 
with  its  beams: 

donee  diver sas  praecurrens  mota  Calypso 
luna  moraturis  sedula  luminibus  i. 

In  the  perils  of  a storm  at  sea  the  poet  laments  his  folly 
in  leaving  Cynthia:  he  cries  to  the  'lonely  sea-mews',  and  his 
prayers  fall  idly  on  a 'heartless  shore ' j the  winds  aid  Cynthia's 
cruelty,  and  the  gale  howls  fierce  threats  in  his  ear.  Let  the 
dark  night  and  'threatening  shoals'  be  enough  punishment J Perish 
the  man  who  first  voyaged  over  the  'unwilling  deep'.  Propertius 
now  gives  vent  to  the  sympathetic,  now  to  the  antipathetic  fallacy. 
Bereft  of  Cynthia,  he  is  lonely:  all  nature  is  lonely  and  deserted. 
But  he  must  make  his  moan  --  if  only  the  lone  crags  can  keep  faith J 

And  ye  trees  and  founts  witness  my  Cynthia's  cruelty!  * 

, ^ 

Perhaps  the  most  sincere,  pathetic,  and  spontaneous  of  Pro- 

Ithe* 

pertius's  elegies  is  B sympathetic  probably  written  to  comfort 
the  sorrowing  mother  of  the  ill-fated  youth  Paetus  who  lost  his 
life  at  sea.  Propertius  is  completely  overcome  with  emotion,  and 

I * 

the  poem  is  ome  long  antipathetic  fallacy:  'oh,  money,  source  of 
many  woes,  'tis  thou  hast  o'erwhelmed  Paetus  with  raging  waters; 

\ 

thou  givest  men's  vices  cruel  nourishment.  Nature  is  treacherous 
--  with  guile  hath  she  made  a path  for  greed! 

natura  insidians  pontum  substravit  avaris  (37) 

1.  I.  3,  31*32 

2.  I.  17 

3.  I.  18 


J8 


f 


74 


Ah,  cruel  NoEth  wind#  (13)  Poor  Paetus  did  the  wild  nig  t see  "born© 
on  a slender  plank:  so  many  ills  conspired  for  the  death  of 
Paetus : 

hunc  parvo  ferri  vidit  nox  improba  ligno: 

Paetus  ut  occideret  tot  coiere  mala. 

Finally,  the  examples  quoted  above  seem  to  bear  out  the  truth 
of  Seller's  statement:  "Propertius  forces  the  Latin  language  fr6m 
its  ordinary  obedience  to  grammatical  laws  and  its  ordinary 
sobriety  of  phrase  to  be  the  medium  of  an  imagination  working 
powerfully,  incessantly,  and  irregularly  under  the  influence  of 
powerful,  unceasing,  and  irregular  emotion.  The  language  of  Pro- 
pertius is  the  idealised  monologue  6f  an  introspective  mind, 
making  its  meaning  vividly  present  to  itself , as  that  of  Ovid 
is  the  idealized  conversation  addressed  to  a pleasure -loving, 
refined,  and  quick-witted  society."  # Propertius,  I may  add, 
may  be  said  to  possess,  besides  his  intimate  familiarity  with  all 
the  conflicting  elements  of  human  passion  and  the  deeper  sources 
of  melancholy  in  human  life,  more  than  almost  any  ancient  poet 
a sympathy  with  nature  in  her  lonely  desolate  scenes,  an  antipathy 
for  her  tempestuous  forces,  an  appreciation  of  the  soothing 
effects  of  her  softness  and  beauty. 

1.  III.  7,  53-4 

2.  Sellar,  Horace  and  the  Elegiac  Poets,  1899,  p.307 


Ovid 


In  Ovid  the  pathetic  fallacy  occurs  with  considerable  fre- 
quency, it  is  usually  artificial,  in  keeping  with  the  poet's  style 
as  a whole,  and  is  lacking  in  the  spontaneity  of  its  use  by  Pro- 
pectius  as  well  as  in  the  less  spontaneous  but  more  philosophic 
use  of  it  by  Vergil  in  the  Rene id.  Ovid’s  use  of  this  fallacy 
has  contributed  greatly  to  the  progress  of  his  artificiality,  and 
shows  that  he  has  not  only  all  the  arts  of  the  rhetorician  at 
his  command,  but  also  the  benefit  of  all  that  has  preceded  him  in 
Roman  literature,  as  well  as  in  that  of  Greece  No  Latin  au- 

thor has  borrowed  so  freely  and  extensively  from,  his  contemporar- 
ies and  immediate  predecessors  as  Ovid,^  who,  among  other 
things,  artistically  adopted  instances  of  the  pathetic  fallacy 
from  his  Greek  and  Roman  forerunners.  The  Alexandrian  origin  of 
his  Lie  tar: or  chose  s , as  well  as  of  much  of  the  content  of  his  other 
writings  is  a matter  of  reasonable  certainty,  and,  I believe  a 
study  of  Hellenistic  parallels  would  reveal  his  debt  to  Greek  lit- 
erature in  the  use  he  made  of  the  pathetic  fallacy. 

Ovid’s  elaborate  fallacy  in  the  representation  of  Nature's 

c<  a- 

grief  at  the  death  of  Orpheus  is  not  dissimilar  to  Vergil's  de- 
scription of  Nature's  grief  at  the  threatening  danger  to  Surydice. 
But  Ovid  is  not  reserve!  in  his  presentation:  in  the  iletai  or  nhoses 
Nature  grieves  more  intensely  and  more  completely  than  in  any 
work  of  .his  predecessors.  Hence,  not  only  do  the  mountains  and 
towers  weep,  as  in  Vergil,  but  the  birds,  beasts,  roaks,  trees, 
river s--and  his  very  lyre  weeps,  in  Ovid,  for  Orpheus; 

1.  Zielinski  in  Philolo  -us , Vol.  64(1905),  p.  16 

2.  Rand  in  O.A.P.A.,  Vol.  55  (1904),  pi;.  143  ff. 


76 


Te  maestae  volueres,  Orphans,  te  turba  ferarun, 
te  rigidi  silicas,  te  carmina  saepe  secutae 
fleverunt  silvae,  positis  te  frondibus  arbor 
tonsa  comas  luxit;  lacrimis  quoque  flur  ina  dicunt 
increvisse  snis , obstrusaque  carbasa  pullo 
naides  et  dryades  passosque  habuere  capillos. 
membra  iacent  diversa  locis,  caput,  Hebre  ^ lyramque 
excipis:  et  (minimi)  medio  dum  labitur  arnne , 
flebit  nescio  quid  queritur  iyro,  flebite  lingua 
murmurat  exanimis,  respondent  flebiterripae  ■ ~ ' 

A further  indication  of  Ovid's  artificial  use  of  the  pathetic 
fallacy  may  be  see^  in  the  studied  repetition  of  the  sane  fallacy 
in  several  instances:  In  her  letter  to  Phaon,  Sappho  is  made  to 
imagine  that  the  trees,  as  in  the  passage  last  quoted,  "lay  aside 
their  leaves  and  grieve"  in  sympathy  with  her: 


quin  etiarn  rami  positis  lugere  videntur  , > 
frondibus,  et  nullae  dulce  queruntur  aves'^' 

a leafless  tree  being  a symbol  of  grief. And  even  in  such  a 
pseudo-didactic  work  as  the  Berne diun  Amorist ) he  digresses  to 
refer  to  Nature's  lament  at  the  death  of  Phyllis,  a theme  whi ch 
Vergil,  too,  treated  in  his  Eclo  ;.?ue  3 . ( 1 

And  yet,  whether  or  not  Ovid  was  himself  a man  of  deep  feel- 
ing and  emotion,  in  his  works,  at  least,  he/  never  loses  sight 
of  the  realm  of  feeling--it  is  because  he  possesses  to  a great  ex- 
tent the  creative  imagination  which  clothes  inanimate  things  with 
personality,  calls  forth  him  who  is  far  distant  or  long  since 
dead,  so  grasps  the  hidden  relations  between  objects  that  the 
name  of  one  suggests  the  other,  sees  resemblances  between  seeming- 
ly unlike  things  and  uses  these  to  enhance  the  beauty,  the  clear - 

1.  Met  XI.,  45  ff. 

2.  Per.  XV.,  152  ff. 

3.  e.g.  Bejt  XIII.  , 324 

4.  Kern.  Am.  606  ff. 

5.  V.  p. 


I . 


- - 


77 


ness,  the  strength,  either  or  all,  of  a given  locution.  Ovid 
even  makes  the  sound  of  words  reproduce  their  sense  so  that  in  all 
situations,  lie  not  merely  describes  a scene  as  done,  hut  sees  and 
hears  and  feels  it  in  the  doing.  In  short,  of  all  Roman  poets, 

Ovid  is,  I believe,  the  most  consummate  artist  in  the  field  of 
literary  technique  and  human  psychology.  It  is  moreover,  easy  to 
observe  how  well  he  realised  the  aesthetic  significance  of  the  pa- 
thetic fallacy,  and  with  what  artistic  skill  he  strove  for  and  to 

its 

a great  extent  attained  perfection.  But,  in  an  attempt  to  show 

A 

how  far  Ovid  drew  from,  and  perhaps  improved  on,  the  themes  and 
literary  technique  of  his  predecessors,  we  must  be  careful  at  the 
same  time  not  to  underestimate  his  originality. 

As  in  his  predecessors,  in  Ovid  , too,  the  emotions  of  -rief 
and  sorrow  claim  a considerable  number  of  instances  of  the  pathetic 
fallacy.  He  describes  how  a tempest  arose  in  the  Ionian  sea  dur- 
ing his  voyage  to  lomi , , and  the  very  ship  groaned  responsively 
to  his  woes: 


pinea  texta  sonant,  pulsi  stridore  rudentes, 
ingemit  et  nostris  ipsa  carina  mails.  (1) 

He  sends  his  book,  personified,  to  Rome.  It  is  represented  in  neg- 
lected and  sordid  attire,  and  as  wandering  through  various  parts 
of  the  city  and  praying  to  Augustus  to  pardon  the  poet,  pining  in 
exile.  Ovid  represents  his  shaking  and  tremulous  fear,  his  white 
and  lifeless  color,  and  his  dread  as  reflected  in  the  writing: 


me  mi serum J vereorqne  locum  vereorque  potentem, 
et  quatitur  rapido  littera  nostra  metu. 
aspicis  exsangui  chart am  pa lie r e colore? 
aspicis  alternos  intremuisse  pedes? 


1.  Tristia,  IV.  9 ff 


78 


And  he  pictures  in  the  Metamorphoses  Aethaea's  struggle  be- 
tween mother-love  for  her  son  and  that  fierce  clan-love  for  her 
brothers,  whom  Meleager,  her  son  had  slain.  As  her  love  for  her 
brothers,  wins,  "turning  away  her  face,  with  trembling  hand  she 
throws  the  fatal  billet  into  the  flaies:  'She  brand  either  gave 

or  seemed  to  give  a groan  as  it  was  caught  and  consumed  by  the 
unw illing  fire": 

aut  dedit  aut  visus  gernitus  eut  ipse  dedisse 
stipes,  ut  invitis  conreptus  ab  irnibus  arsit'^J 

And  while  Pan,  failing  to  catch  Jyrinx,  sighed  in  disappointment, 
the  soft  air  stirring  in  the  reeds  gave  forth  a low  and  complain- 
ing sound: 

dumque  ibi  suspirat , motos  in  harunde  ventos 
effecine  sorum  tenuem  similBmque.  querenti(2) 

In  the  Past i : the  exiled  poet  digresses  to  remind  Germanicus 
that  cold  Sulmo  was  his  native  place.  She  re  .is  something  pathetic 
in  this  digression  and  in  the  poet’s  allusion  to  the  immense  dis- 
tance that  then  separated  hir  from  it-- "But",  he  interrxipts,  "sup- 
press thy  complaints,  my  Muse;  sacred  subjects  must  not  be  sung 
to  a sorrowing  lyre": 

Sulmonis  gelidi,  patriae,  Germanics,  nostrae. 
ne  mis 6 rum,  Scythico  quam  procul  ilia  solo  est! 

Ergo  age-tarn  longas  sed  supprime , Musa,  querellas: 
non  tibi  sunt  raesta  sacra  canenda  lyra.  (3) 

And  a soldier’s  horse  when  a scourge  comes  upon  the  earth,  "for- 
getting his  former  glory,  groans  in  his  stall,  doomed  to  an  in- 

1.  Met.  VIII,  513  ff. 

2.  Met.  I. , 707  ff . 

3.  Past i ,IV. , 81  ff. 


79 


glorious  death”. ^ 

Ovid,  often  represents  his  heroines,  grieving  and  abandoned 
by  their  lovers  giving  vent  to  the  antipathetic  fallacy.  V/hen 
Adriadne  climbs  a cliff,  scanning  the  horizon  as  she  searches  for 

to) 

sight  of  Theseus,  she  "finds  the  winds  cruel , too.  ' ' And 

"Oh  faithless  bed--the  greater  part  of  my  being,  oh,  where  is  he? 
...Cruel  were  her  slumbers,  the  winds  and  breezes  "eager  to  start" 
her  "tears"! 


crudeles  somni , quid  me  tenuistis  inertem? 

aut  semel  aeterna  nocte  premenda  fui 
vos  quoque  crudieles,  venti,  nimiumque  parati 
flaminaque  in  lacrimas  officiosa  meas. 
dextera  crude lis,  quae  me  frat  se  que  necatit, 
vet  data  poscenti,  nomen  inane,  fides! 
in  me  iurarunt  somnus  vent  us  que  'fidesque 
prodita  sum  causis  una  puella  tribus! (3) 

urging 

But  she  lapses  into  the  sympathetic  fallacy?  Theseus  to  tell, 

U 

when  he  returns  to  his  home , of  her,  abandoned  on  a "lonely  shore" 
When  the  poet’s  tablets,  sent  to  his  mistress,  return  to  him 
with  gloomy  nbw£  that  she  is  unwilling  to  see  him,  he  vents  his 
diappointment  on  them,  ".away,  ill  nature!  tablets,  funereal  pieces 
of  *wood!" 


hinc,  difficiles , funebria  ligna,  tabellae, 
tuque,  negaturis  cera  referta  notis!  (5) 


At  one  time,  Ovid’s  mind,  sad  and  despairing  sees  Nature  devita- 
lized: he  asks  the  sun  to  be  pointed  out  to  him.  He  does  not  see 
Nature  at  all : 


tristitiae  causam.  si  quis  cognoscere  quaerit, 

1.  Met . VII.,  542  ff. 

2.  Her . X,  29  4. 

3.  Her.  X. , 111-118  5. 


129 

Amores  XI. , 7 ff 


GO. 


ostendi  solem  postulat  ille  sibi, 

nee  frondem  in  silvis  nec  aperto  mollis  prato 
gramina,  n6c  pleno  flumine  cernit  aquam.  (1) 

Leander,  pining  in  grief  for  H6ro  wrote  that  "for  the  seventh 
night" — space  longer  than  a year  to  him--he  had  not  slept:  the 
"troubled"  S6a,  the  "raging"  deep  has  been  boiling  with  hoarse- 
voiced waters: 


septima  nox  agitur,  spatium  mihi  longius  anno, 
sollicitum  raucis  ut  mare  fervet  aquis 
his  ego  si  vidi  mulcentem  pectora  somnum 
noctibus,  insani  sit  mora  longa  fretij  (2) 


He  essayed  to  swim  across  to  her,  but  "wind  and  wave  denied"  him 
"everything":  (3)  Why  must  my  heart  be  troubled  as  oft  as  the  sea 
is  troubled?"^)  "I  envy  PhrJLxus,  whom  the  ram  with  gold  in  its 
wooly  fleece  bore  safely  over  the  sad  S6as."(5)  But  he  tries  again 
to  swim  across,  and  he  imagines,  at  times  he  can  almost  touch  her 
with  his  hand.  "But  oft,  alas  I this  "almost"  starts  my  tears. 

What  else  than  this  was  the  catching  at  elusive  fruits,  and  pur- 
suing with  the  lips  the  hope  of  a retreating  stream?" 

veil©  quid  est  aluid  fugientia  prendere  poma 
spemque  suo  refugi  fluminis  ore  sequi.  (6) 

But,  in  spite  of  the  turbulent  sea,  he  must  swim  to  her,  even  though 
he  will  lose  his  life  in  the  attempt.  And  such  an  omen  of  his 
death,  he  ventures  to  imagine,  will  no  doubt  offend  her  and  stir 
her  displeasure:  "I  cease--no  more  complain;  but,  that  the  sea, 

too,  may  end  its  anger,  add,  I beseech,  your  prayers  to  mine": 

1.  Tristia  X. . 4.  7 ff . 

2.  Her.  XVIII.,  25  ff. 

3.  Ibid,  53 

4.  Ibid. , 129 

5.  ibid.,  143 

6.  Her.  XVIII.,  180  ff. 


81. 


desino  parcelqueril  sed  ut  et  mare  finiat  irara, 
accedant,  quaeso,  fac  tua  vota  rneis.  (1) 

Just  a brief  space  ox  aalm.  Then  v/ill  I be  slow  to  swim,  then 
willfL  beware , nor  cast  revilement  on  the  deaf  floods  again,  nor 
complain  that  the  sea  is  harsh  when  I fain  would  swim:" 

nec  faciam  surdis  convicia  fluctibus  ulla 
triste  nataturo  nec  querar  esse  fretum  (2) 

Hero,  too,  pining  for  leander  is  troubled  because,  even  when 
the  heavy  wave  has  a little  laid  aside  its  fierce  mood,  her  lo- 
ver could  come,  but  will  not": 

aut , ubi  sa&vitiae  paulum  gravis  unqta  remisit 
posse  quidem,  sed  te  nolle  venire,  queror  (3) 

And  she  imagines  the  storm  is  Jealous  of  her  and  beats  her  lover 
back;  that  is  why  he  does  not  come: 

quoque  minus  venias,  invida  pugnat  hiemps  (4) 

Then  she  lapses  into  the  sympathetic  fallacy!*  she  falls  asleep 
before  dawn , "just  when  her  lamp  was  falling  asleep",  (5) 

And  again,  as  Ariadne,  wanders  aimlessly,  calling  the  name  of 
Theseus,  her  desire  for  him  is  too  powerful  to  be  felt  by  her 
alone:  so  it  is  quite  natural  for  her  to  imagine  that  the  very 
place  experienced  her  desire  and  "felt  the  will  to  bring  her  aid" 
thus  she  unconsciously  interprets  the  echo  of  her  voicel 

1 . Ibid . 203-204 
2. Ibid,  211-212 

3.  Her.  XIX.,  23-24 

4.  Ibid.  120 

5.  Y.  p.^3 


' J 


. 


82. 


interea  toto  claraanti  litore  "Iheseu!’’ 
reddebant  noinen  concava  saxa  tuun  , 
et  quatiens  ego  te , totiens  locus  ipse  vocabat. 
ipse  locus  miserae  ferre  volebat  opem  (1) 


And  Ovid's  "weary  " bark  carries  him, an  exile,  on  his  jour- 
ney to  Tomi , touching  on  the  way  Samos: 

ind6  levi  vento  Zerynthia  litora  nacta 
Threiciam  tetigit  f e ssa  carina  Samon  (2) 

When  the  player  is  sorrov/ing,  his  lyre,  too,  is  unresponsive, 
"unwilling" : 


et  Linon  in  silvis  idem  pater  "aelinon1"  altis 
dicitur  invita  concinuisse  lyra.  ( 3 j . 


fhe  excited  lover,  in  Ovid,  often  imagines  that  even  inani- 
mate objects  are  jealous  of  him  (antipathetic),  at  the  same  time 
reflecting  his  own  jealousy:  "Oh,  envious  wrap,  to  cover  such 
pretty  limbs  12 


invida  vestis  eras,  quae  tarn  bona  crura  tegebas 
quoque  magis  spectes--inf ida  vestis  eras!  (4) 


And  the  lovers,  py ramus  and  fhisbe,  appealed  to  the  "envi- 
ous "wall  that  separated  tl  em.  "How  small  a thing,  it  would  be 
to  be  to  open,  0 v/all,  for  our  kiss!" 


"invide"  dicebant  "paries,  quid  amantibus  obstas. 
quantum  erat,  ut  sii\  eres  toto  nos  corpore  iungi  ( 
aut , hoc  si  ' '.nimium  est,  vel  ad  oscula  danda  pater6S? 

1 . Her . X.  21  ff. 

2.  -histia  I.  10,  19 

3.  Amoves  III.,  9 23 

4.  Am.  III. , 2,  27 

5.  I let . IV.  73  ff. 


83. 

Filled  with  wonder  at  the  origin  of  ships  and  sailing,  Ovid 
supposes  that  the  ’’waves  looked  on  in  wonder”  when  the  i*rgo  first 
set  sail: 

Prima  malas  docuit  miBantibus  aequoris  .undis 
Peliaoo  pinus  vertice  caesavias!  ' 1 1 

Y hen  l.Iedea  went  forth,  desiring  to  renew  Aeson's  span  of  life, 

"all  alone  she  wandered  out  into  the  deep  stillness  of  nidnight." 
All  Nature  was  mute,  silent,  unresponsive:  ’’only  the  stars  twin- 
kled. ” She  invokes  all  the  gods  of  th6  groves  ^nd  of  night:  "Mth 

your  help  when  I have  willed  it,  the  streams  have  run  back  of 
their  f ountain-heads , while  the  banks  wondered: 

quorum  ope,  cum  volui , r i pi s mi r antibus  omnes 
in  fontis  rediere  suos,  ' ^ 1 

Ani  she  continued,  "I  have  need  of  |uices  to  renew  old  age:  and 

you  will  give  me  them:  for  not  in  vain  have  the  stars  gleamed  in 

reply'.’ 

"I  am  now  surprised,”  writes  Ovid  during  his  voyage  to  Pomi 
"that  amid  such  billowy  conflicts  both  of  my  spirit  and  of  the 
sea,  my  genius  did  not  vanish.  If  I gain  my  port, by  that  very 
port  I shall  be  frightened;  the  shore  has  more  horrors  for  meothan 
the  hostile  waves.  And  although  the  sea  be  agitated  by  wintry 
storms,  yet  is  my  breast  more  agitated  than  the  sea  itself."  Thus, 
to  Ovid,  the  storm  battles  and  rages  because  he  dares  to  write, 
while  it  hurls  its  threats: 

1.  Am.  II.  11  ff. 

2.  Met .VII . , 199 

3.  Ibid.  21? 


84 


improba  pugnat  hiernps  indi  gnatmrque , quod  ausim 
scribere  se  rigidas  incutiente  minas 
vincat  hiernps  hominemJ  sed  eodem  tempore,  quaeso, 
ipse  modum  statuam  carminis,  ilia  sui  (1) 


1.  Tristia  I.,  II  el  ff. 


» 


t , 


' 


. 


; 


, 


. 


85 


Conclusion. 

As  I have  shown  in  my  evidence,  Lucretius  and,  perhaps  even 
in  a greater  decree,  both  Horace  and  Tibullus,  are  the  only  clas- 
sical poets  of  the  period  investigated  of  whom  more  than  fragments 
are  extant,  who  do  not  make  some  appir^c/A  use  of  the  pathetic 
fallacy.  The  other  Latin  poets  whom  I have  treated  were  either 
wholly  or  partly  influenced  by  their  Alexandrian  predecessors , as 
was  probably  the  case  with  Catullus,  and  more  than  probably  with 
Vergil,  Propertius  and  Ovid,  in  each  case,  of  course,  in  varying 
degree . 

As  we  have  seen  the  close  connection  of  the  pathetic  fallacy 
with  the  belief  in  animism,  with  mythology  and  the  idea  of  meta- 
morphosis, (the  latter  being  largely  of  Alexandrian  development), 
it  is  therefore  not  unlikely  to  suppose  a priori  that  the  use  of 
th6  pathetic  fallacy  reached  a concomitant  development  during  the 
Alexandrian  period,  and  that  the  fallacy  was  one  of  the  by-pro- 
ducts of  that  part  of  the  Alexandrian  literary  tradition  and  at- 
mosphere which  wap  adopted  by  the  Roman  poets. 

The  direct  influence  of  this  culture  upon  Vergil’s  earlier 
works  is  a generally  recognized  fact,  and  a recent  investigator 
has  traced  the  indirect  influence  of  a literary  atmosphere,  charged 

CD 

with  Alexandrian  elements,  upon  Vergil's  later  work,  the  Aeneid. 
That  Vergil,  in  his  earlier  works,  adopted  the  Theocritean  style 
of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  will  become  obvious  from  the  following: 
where, in  Theocritus, all  nature  mourns  for  Daphnis: 

"For  him  the  jackals,  him  the  wolves  did  lament; 
for  him  did  even  the  lion  of  the  thicket  roar,  when  he  v/as  dead... 

1.  Cf.  Eleanor  3.  Duckett,  Influence  of  Alexandrian  Poetry 
upon  the  Aeneid  in  Class.  Jour . Vol.  XI  .,  March  1916  ppT  3^tsi7 


86. 


Many  the  kine  about  his  feet,  many  the  bulls,  and  many  the  heifers 
and  the  young  steers  which  bellowed  their  lament."  (1)  Converse- 
ly, Mature  is  supposed  to  rejoice  at  the  approach  of  the  loved 
one : 

"There  does  th.6  ewe,  there  do  the  goats  bear  twins ; there  the 
bees  fill  full  the  hives,  and  oaks  are  loftier  where  fair  Hilon 
sets  his  foot.  But  alas,  if  he  depart,  lean  is  the  shepherd  then 
and  lean  the  pastures."  "Everywhere  is  spring,  everywhere  fresh 
pastures,  the  cow's  udders  are  swollen  with  milk  and  the  young 
are  nourished,  wheresoever  lovely  Kais  wanders. "( 2 ) 

And  in  Bion: 

" I wait  for  Adonis;  beauteous  Adonis  is  dead .. .Around 
that  youth,  indeed,  faithful  hounds  whine... .All  mountains  and  the 

oaks  say  "Alas  for  Adonis'.  And  rivers  sorrow  for  the  woes  of 
Aphrodite,  and  springs  on  the  mountains  weep  for  her  Adonis,  and 
flowers  redden  from  grief......  since  he  is  dead,  ay,  all  flowers 

have  become  withered" . ^ ^ 

In  Callimachus,  too,  Mature  is  transformed  into  gold  at  Apol- 
lo's birth,  or  fears  the  wrath  of  Ares;  the  river  rejoices  in  Ar- 
temis and  the  sea  keeps  silence  before  Apollo. ^ ^ y So  in  the 
Aeneid  Mature  weeps  for  the  loss  of  the  fallen  Umbro,  and  quakes 
with  terror  at  the  exploits  of  Hercules. 

As  in  Theocritus  and  Bion  Mature  mourns  for  Daphnis  and 
Adonis,  so  in  Vergil's  Eclogues  she  mourns  for  the  dear  Caesar, 

for  the  deserted  Gallus,  and,  in  the  Georgies . for  the  endangered 

1.  Idyl  I.,  71-75 

2.  Idyl  VIII.,  45-48 

3.  Idyl  I. 

4.  Of.  Duckett,  p.  538 


87. 

Eurydice.  And  as  in  the  Greek  poets  nature  responds  joyfully  to 
the  presence  and  conversely  to  the  absence,  of  the  loved  one,  so 
does  she,  in  the  Eclogues . react  to  the  presence  and  absence  of 
Alexis  and’  Phyllis. 

Ovid,  too,  in  his  Metamorphoses . imagines  Nature  affected  in 
like  manner  at  the  death  of  Orpheus,  although  the  heroines  of  his 
love-letters  find  nature  very  "cruel." 

Consequently  I believe  a further  comparison  of  Alexandrian 
and  Latin  parallels  would  show  that  the  pathetic  fallacy  is  ,in 
the  main,  an  Alexandrian  characteristic  that  was  adopted  and  not  - 
ably  perfected,  along  with  other  peculiarities  of  the  Alexandrian 
tradition,  by  certain  Homan  poets.  That  the  expression  of  the' 
fallacy,  is  in  the  main,  not  typical  of  the  classical  character, 
either  Roman  or  Greek,  becomes  evident  when  we  consider  that  the 
Roman  poets  who  are  free  from  Alexandrian,  out  perhaps  not  from 
classical  Greek,  influence  are  noticeably  free  also  from  the  fal- 
lacy, whereas  the  opposite _ holds  true  in  the  case  of  those  who 
are  clearly  influenced  by  the  Alexandrian  tradition. 

Because  of  the  flexible  nature  of  the  pathetic  fallacy,  I 
find  that  its  relative  occurrence  is  not  of  so  great  significance 
as  the  clear  view  of  the  nature  or  type  of  the  fallacy  in  the  dif- 
ferent poets,  he  have  seen  that  the  fallacy  is  more  or  less  com- 
mon to  Vergil,  Propextius  and  Ovid.  It  is  also  present,  but  in 
a much  lesser  degree,  in  Catullus. 

Vergil’s  use  may  be  said  to  be,  on  the  whole,  philosophic, 
that  is,  in  harmony  with  the  doctrine,  of  # . fheie 

may  be  some  instances  that  are  perhaps  spontaneous  but  distinc- 
tion in  such  cases  can  only  seem  unavoidably  subjective. 


09. 


Finally,  the  romantic  origin  and  effect,  therefore,  of  the 
pathetic  fallacy  in  Latin  poetry,  and  perhaps  even  in  all  poetry, 
I believe  may  be  traced  to  the  Alexandrian  pefiod  of  culture  and 
refinement  when  the  genuine  mythology  of  Greece  reached  its  high- 
est development,  an  age  which  believed  in  natural  magic,  in  the 
transformation  of  men  and  women  into  birds  and  beasts  and  trees 
and  flowers,  and  in  the  existence  of  life  in  all  objects  of  na- 
ture . 


